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FALLINA 


A TALE OF MODERN AMERICAN 
SOCIAL LIFE 


ROSA MEYERS MUMMA 

Author of “types of travelers,” etc. 




Boston 

THE ROXBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY 
1906 



UlRAItYef CONGRESS 
Twi C»i)(e$ Received 

OCT 10 <906 

Ctpyriftit Entry 

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CLASS (X XAc., No. 

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TO MY FATHER. 





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FALLINA 


CHAPTER I. 

South of Avignon, over the smooth 
high road, bowled the handsome auto- 
mobile of Guy Tisdale. The only oc- 
cupants of the machine were Mrs. Tis- 
dale and the chauffeur. 

Mr. and Mrs. Tisdale had a heated 
argument over their coffee and rolls in 
the court-yard of the hotel they were 
stopping at in Avignon, that morning, 
which resulted in Mrs. Tisdale continu- 
ing the journey to Monte Carlo alone; 
Mr. Tisdale stubbornly holding out for 
a few more days at Avignon ; Mrs. 
Tisdale for reaching her destination on 
schedule time. 

It was the “little rift” threatening 
a greater break in their young mar- 
ried lives that menaced them now 
continually. 

Young Tisdale was the junior part- 


3 


FALLIN A 


ner of the firm of Tisdale & Cluett, 
coal operators ; one of the most exten- 
sive in the anthracite region of Penn- 
sylvania, U. S. A. Owing to his keen 
business perception, his father gave 
him a responsible position with the 
company upon leaving college, and at 
the senior Tisdale’s death he became 
a junior partner. Thus it may be seen 
how the young man, having always 
occupied a position in which he was 
accustomed to rule, should, upon occa- 
sion, assume the dictatorial and become 
overbearing to others, even to those 
nearest and dearest to him. Having 
early lost his mother and being an 
only child, he had never learned to 
tone down or soften his manner, save 
in the brief season he had wooed and 
won Catharine Barton. 

Catharine Barton, with her widowed 
mother, was on her way to her home 
in America, when she met Guy Tis- 
dale, who had broken away from busi- 
ness for a two months’ vacation in the 


4 


FALLIN A 


mountains of Switzerland. Mrs. Barton 
and Catharine had been since June the 
guests of Lord and Lady Errol, the 
latter, Agnes, the elder daughter of 
Mrs. Barton. What Catharine saw 
in the sumptuous homes of her sister, 
both in the country at Errolton and 
in the town house in London, no one 
knew, not even her mother suspected, 
for her sister, in her own way, dig- 
nified and calm, seemed the happiest 
of women. Upon being presented at 
Court, Catharine created quite a sensa- 
tion, eclipsing a number of English 
beauties present. Following the pre- 
sentation she received much attention. 
It was known a substantial dot would 
be hers, but a certain individuality in 
addition to her beauty, which her edu- 
cation in England had been unable to 
diminish, proved her greatest attrac- 
tion. During the visit to her sister 
her keen grey eyes discovered that 
which her more astute parent seemed 
to be in ignorance of: that Lady Errol, 


5 


FALLIN A 


happy in her exalted position and 
being the mother of the heir to a fine 
estate, was blind to the fact that her 
husband lived a life of his own with 
his horses and dogs ; thinking only of 
his wife as a necessary and somewhat 
attractive part of his menage. Thus it 
was that Catharine, never having met 
any of her own countrymen since she 
was grown, felt there was a lack some- 
where, and that title and position were 
not the sum total of a happy exist- 
ence, at least to her. She preferred 
being classed a little higher than a 
handsome piece of furniture by her 
future husband. 

Catharine Barton at this time was 
an extremely pretty girl. To say that 
she was of a distinctive American type 
would be untrue. America is a country 
so vast and its people composed of the 
descendants of so many nations, that, 
there is no distinctive type. The dif- 
ference between the American woman 
and the women of other countries is- 


6 


FALLIN A 


not so mucli of a facial cliaracter, as a 
difference in figure and mental charac- 
teristics. There is no “type.” Most 
American girls possess winsome, pretty 
faces, whether they be Monde or bru- 
nette, short or tall. The tall, thin, 
somewhat scornful person, which has 
won celebrity for a certain artist as 
the typical American girl, among for- 
eigners, who have never seen the genu- 
ine American girl, is no more typical 
of the American girl than is the long^ 
lank figure of the “Uncle Sam” of the 
cartoons typical of the American man. 

Catharine Barton was of medium 
height, with a prettily rounded figure, 
which really might be called charac- 
teristic of American women. Her hair 
was dark brown, looking when the sun 
rested upon it like burnished copper. 
She possessed the modest, demure air 
of an English girl, raised as she was 
among that class, together with the in- 
born independence, the birthright of 
those of her own country. 


7 


FALLIN A 


It was not long before tbe passen- 
gers on tbe “Celtic’^ saw bow tbe dim- 
ples deepened on Catharine’s face at 
tbe approach of tbe American, Guy 
Tisdale, one *bf her fellow-voyagers. 
Tisdale, too busy on land to pay atten- 
tion to tbe fair sex, here in tbe idle- 
ness of an ocean crossing found time to 
fall in love with a compatriot. What 
won upon him more completely than 
her pretty face was her absolute sur- 
render to bis opinion in everything. 
Mrs. Barton noticing this deck inti- 
macy and rather pleased with her stal- 
wart young countryman, invited him for 
a week to her summer home, “Water- 
side,” on tbe Hudson, where tbe wooing 
eontinued. Like most men accustomed 
to having their own way, Guy wanted 
no long betrothal. Mrs. Barton made 
no objection to this. She reasoned with 
some complacency that she was to 
have this child near her, and looked 
forward to long years of her compan- 
ionship, when Catharine would be hap- 


8 


F A L L I N A 


pily wedded to Guy, one of lier own 
countrymen, a man born and bred in a 
country where women not only bold 
tbe same position in the borne as tbe 
men, but are also loved and revered by 
tbe latter. Jobn Darrell, a bachelor 
brother of Mrs. Barton, and tbe god- 
father and guardian of Catharine, was 
not so sanguine of this alliance for 
his favorite niece. Knowing the world 
and men as he did, he felt Guy Tis- 
dale to be a forceful character, and was 
apprehensive of the future for Catha- 
rine when the glamour of the honey- 
moon wore away and she attempted to 
assert herself, upon occasion, as he 
felt she would do ; if he, who had 
studied her from babyhood, read her 
character aright. But, what can a 
doting old uncle do, when a pair of 
young people decide upon spending the 
rest of their lives together ? There 
were apparently no obstacles in the 
way. There were health, wealth and 
apparent deep regard ; what more could 


9 


FALLIN A 


lie desire? Hence November found 
them with the Madison Avenue house 
opened, and in December took place as 
pretty a ‘‘white*’ wedding at Grace 
Church as had ever been seen there. 
Nature assisted on the occasion with 
a heavy fall of snow. The following 
summer Mrs. Barton spent at New- 
port, while the newly married pair un- 
dertook a motor tour through Europe. 


CHAPTER II. 


Even Newport, whicli is a law unto 
itself in American social affairs, was 
agog over tHe arrival in its midst of 
a member of tbe reigning royal family 
of Germany. As he was a princeling 
of such degree that at some day H. 
R. H. might reach the imperial throne 
of the “ Vaterland,’’ there was much 
casting about as to who was to enter- 
tain him, and thus cut a notch higher 
than her neighbor on the social board 
that emblazoned such affairs to the 
world. 

Mrs. Edgerton Dowling was among 
the favored few whose cards to dinner 
were accepted. Mrs. Dowling, while 
cruising with her husband on his 
yacht, the ‘^Amphitrite,** had this 
advantage over the other residents 
of Newport of having met H. R. H. 
while cruising in German waters. Mrs. 


II 


FALLINA 


Barton was a sister of Mrs. Dowling 
and was spending tHe summer with the 
latter at Green Towers.” The sis- 
ters were together again after an es- 
trangement which had lasted a number 
of years. This situation came about 
through the separation and divorce of 
Mrs. Dowling from her first husband, 
Theodore Trainor. Mrs. Dowling had 
always been a dashing woman, fond 
of society and admiration. Wifehood 
and motherhood found no change in 
her. Theodore Trainor was a man of 
high principle, and of loyal allegiance 
to his wife. When he found her one 
evening after six years of married life 
and loyal devotion on his part, listen- 
ing to the lover-like platitudes of one 
of her admirers, he revealed himself 
to the astonished pair, who thought 
they had the library to themselves, 
and there bade farewell forever to the 
woman who bore his name. Mrs. Bar- 
ton was of entirely different mould. 
She was not long married to Reginald 


12 


FALLIN A 


Barton until sHe saw his short-comings. 
But she was married to him ; nothing 
could change that. “ Until Death do 
ns part” was a solemn compact with 
her. Holding to this principle she 
could have hut little sympathy with 
the sister who had so lightly cast 
aside her bonds. However, since the 
marriage of her sister with a man of 
her own type, and with whom she 
seemed perfectly happy, Mrs. Barton 
held her peace and found not a little 
happiness in the company of her niece, 
Theodora Trainor, or “Theo” as she 
was best known. Not every one would 
have agreed with Theo’s mother, that 
she was “impossible.” She was tall, 
medium dark as to complexion, hair 
and eyes. Her eyes were her strong 
point ; hazel eyes they were, tender, 
appealing when regarding those she 
loved ; black, hard and blazing with 
scorn for injustice, so changeable were 
they. Theo’s naturalness made her 
a difficult subject for her mother to 


13 


FAIvLIN A 


tame and tone to the rules of society. 
Her love of truth sometimes made her 
an uncomfortable companion to those 
made callous , by contact with the 
world. The great love she bore 
her mother caused her to partially 
overcome her dislike for society — the 
society her mother lived for — and, at 
seventeen years of age, her aunt, Mrs. 
Barton, found her about to make her 
debut into that society at the dinner 
given by Mrs. Dowling in honor of 
Prince Albrecht. 

Mrs. Dowling was judicious in the 
selection of her guests for this occa- 
sion, a United States Senator and his 
wife summering at Newport ; the Gov- 
ernor of Rhode Island and his daugh- 
ter, and the German Minister to the 
United States. Only four of the smart 
set to which she belonged were asked, 
thereby causing the deadly enmity of 
the rest for the season. Among the 
guests was Miss Granby, the belle of 
Newport that season. Miss Granby 


14 


FALLIN A 


Had refused several eligible offers dur- 
ing the season, for the reason that 
they all came from Americans and she 
had determined upon marrying a title. 
As yet she had not been successful in 
meeting anyone who bore the coveted 
title until she met Prince Albrecht at 
Mrs. Dowling’s. She knew, however, 
sufficient of the laws and customs of 
his country to be aware that he could 
only marry one of royal blood, al- 
though, if so-minded, he could take a 
morganatic wife by renouncing certain 
rights. She brought all her charms 
to bear but the prince’s gaze wan- 
dered, as far as politeness would per- 
mit, to the face of his hostess’ daugh- 
ter, charming in its youthful contour, 
her shy, swift glance, reminding him 
of a timid doe he had startled recently 
while stalking one of his native forests. 


15 


CHAPTER III. 


A jolt of tHe macliine drew Mrs* 
Tisdale out of her revery, and caused 
lier to glance at her surroundings. 
The country was growing more and 
more picturesque as they neared the 
border of France. Around were the 
vine-clad hills that brought forth some 
of France’s most famous vintage. In 
the valley gleamed a little stream bor- 
dered with straight, prim rows of pop- 
lars. An'^ther jolt as the automobile 
flew along caused Mrs. Tisdale to sit 
more rigidly erect and to wonder if 
she had been quite prudent to insist 
upon having her own way and pro- 
ceeding without her husband, who thor- 
oughly understood the machine. Re- 
assuring herself with the thought that 
the chauffeur, one Dechamel, had been 
with them since leaving Paris, she 
leaned back to enjoy the scenery and 

i6 


F ALLIN A 


again reflect with, some bitterness on 
her husband’s increasing masterfulness. 
On they sped, entering the one street 
of a tiny village, which seemed to lead 
straight down a hill. Midway down 
the street several children were en- 
gaged in play. The chauffeur tried to 
slacken his speed upon seeing them, 
and the little ones flew to the side of 
the road like a flock of frightened 
birds. But, alas, one of the number 
was not fleet enough ! The automobile 
threw the child to one side with such 
force that she lay there as if dead. 
So Mrs. Tisdale and the frightened 
chauffeur thought, as soon as the ma- 
chine could be controlled and returned 
to the spot. By this time a group of 
older people had appeared, among them 
the mother of the injured little one. 
Rough but gentle hands carried the 
child, a little girl of seven years, into 
the nearest house, which happened to 
be that of her parents. By the time 
the Cure of the village, who was also 


ii 


17 


FALLIN A 


the physician, had arrived, — the hum-^ 
hie little place affording no other — the 
child had opened her beautiful dark 
eyes. It was soon discovered that the 
extent of the child’s injuries could not 
be known at once. Meanwhile, as the 
quickest way of obtaining assistance, 
the chauffeur was dispatched to Avig- 
non to apprise Mr. Tisdale of the 
accident and to return next day with 
the best surgical aid to be found. 

It was not until late in the even- 
ing of the day of the accident that 
Tisdale arrived at the village which 
could not be reached by rail. With 
him was Le Docteur Lajambe, famous 
over France for his success in difficult 
cases of surgery. At first he shook 
his head doubtfully over the case when 
through with the examination of the 
little patient. But, after some talk 
with the old priest, he left certain in- 
structions, promising to return the 
next day to perform, if the child’s 
strength permitted, a certain operation 

i8 


F A L L I N A 


by wbicb he hoped to prolong her life. 
“If unsuccessful” — a suggestive shrug 
of the shoulders, finished the sentence, 
and left the rest to the imagination. 

Meantime Mrs. Tisdale, with her 
usual tact and sweet womanliness, had 
so won her way with the mother of 
the little Fallina, for such was the 
strange name borne by the child, that 
she shared the care and waiting upon 
the little maid with the mother. The 
little living-room, one of three that 
composed the cottage, was given up 
for the time to Mrs. Tisdale, her hus- 
band accepting the hospitality of the 
Cure, 

The humble vine-dresser and his 
wife, while distressed with the suffer- 
ing of their little one, could not over- 
come their astonishment at the, to 
them, large sums of money expended 
to aid and relieve Fallina. It seemed 
to their simple minds tempting Provi- 
dence to throw away, what seemed to 
them a fortune, just for a few min- 


19 


FALIyIN A 


utes’ work on the child by this emi- 
nent surgeon, when if the Holy Vir- 
gin interceded, the result would be the 
same. 

Lajambe, urged partly by profes- 
sional pride, partly by the large fee 
promised him, exerted his every en- 
ergy for the restoration of the little 
girl, with the result that in a month’s 
time, if she was kept absolutely quiet, 
in a recumbent position, she would 
again be the healthy little maid she 
was before the accident. 

When Guy Tisdale learned the sur- 
geon’s opinion, he immediately sought 
his wife’s presence. 

“ Catharine, there is no disguising 
the fact, that we do not hit it off as 
to temperament. I do not wish you 
to be unhappy, nor do I feel like sub- 
mitting to every whim of a woman. 
For your sake, also, I wish no scan- 
dal attaching to what I propose.” 

“But, Guy — ” Catharine naled visi- 
bly as he spoke. 


20 


FALLIN A 


“Hear me out, please. If you are 
satisfied to remain liere until tlie child 
is entirely recovered, do so. If not, 
tell me what you wish to do. As for 
me, I shall embark at Naples on the 
first Liner out, to America — it can all 
be easily explained to our friends that 
I hurried home on account of busi- 
ness, — you remained on account of the 
accident. And, when you do return 
home, we can live to all outward ap- 
pearances, a happily married couple — 
behind the scenes, — separate lives.’’ 

“As you will, Guy.” It seemed to 
her numbed senses, the only reply she 
could make. 

It seemed incredible to her. Mar- 
ried not a year — so short a time — and 
to separate thus coldly ; in fact a sepa- 
ration had never entered her mind 
even when most indignant at her hus- 
band’s overbearing manner. 


CHAPTER IV. 


Mrs. Dowling saw everytliing' 
tHrougli rose-colored glasses tlie morn- 
ing following the dinner to the scion 
of royalty. The aforesaid dinner had 
been duly chronicled in all the prin- 
cipal newspapers ; all her rivals had 
been duly impressed, and last, but 
not least, in her estimation, Theo had 
behaved so well, that she deserved 
some reward, and she was even now 
considering what form the reward 
should take. 

It was not until the guests had re- 
turned to the reception rooms after 
dinner that Mrs. Dowling felt in the 
least at her ease, fearing some act of 
gaucherie or ill-timed mischief on the 
part of her offspring. But, wonder- 
ful to relate, Theodora had behaved 
in the most decorous fashion. It is 
true she had not exerted herself to 
say very much to Count Ernst von 


22 


F ALLIN A 


Straben, wbo bad taken ber out to 
dinner, and, to state tbe case trutb-^ 
fully, Mrs. Dowling felt quite uneasy 
several times during tbe dinner at 
tbe Count’s mirtb, provoked doubtless 
by something Tbeo must bave said. 

However, it was all over and they 
were invited, mother and daughter, to 
take luncheon aboard tbe “ Prinzessin,’> 
tbe Prince’s yacht, that day at two 
o’clock. 

Well, dearest,” — Mrs. Dowling 
waxed affectionate when in an amiable 
Inood — “with your bearing yesterday 
evening I feel encouraged to let you 
appear among your elders again. In 
consequence, I bave sent out cards 
for a ball one week from to-night, 
while tbe “Prinzessin” is in port. 
I must be looking up a becoming 
frock for my debutante daughter.” 

‘‘Will there be present only young- 
sters like myself, or all sorts and 
conditions of men and women?” 

“ Theodora, I wish you would ex- 


23 


F ALLIN A 


press yourself more as others of your 
age and class do. You are too ab- 
rupt — too daringly original — in what 
you say. It startles me to bear the 
remarks you make from time to time. 
It is most becoming in a young girl 
to be quiet, observant, thus constantly 
improving ” — 

How long these didactics would have 
continued Theo alone could tell from 
former like attacks, but the appearance 
of a footman with the announcement 
of some callers, cut short the stream 
that was flowing limpidly around and 
threatening to inundate the culprit. 

Among the guests at the luncheon 
was Miss Granby, who possessed not 
only a stately beauty but would be 
heiress to one of those colossal for- 
tunes, that drew the attention of many 
impecunious fortune-hunters to the feet 
of this fair American girl. However, 
Beryl Granby knew her own worth 
and calculated as coolly what her mil- 
lions would purchase for her in placing 


24 


F ALLIN A 


lier in life, as if slie was looking at 
tke situation from an outsider’s point 
of view. 

As tke most eligible of the Prince’s 
suite, Count von Straben became the 
object of Miss Granby’s study and 
manoeuvres, while the distinguished 
party were at Newport. Theodora 
found herself after luncheon on deck 
with Van Boeck Effingham, who had 
known and teased her from babyhood, 
while Mrs. Dowling plied her fasci- 
nations on H. R. H. 

“Your mother »tells me the night 
of the 25th is to be the date of your 
coming out. I had engaged passage 
for the other side, but I shall not go 
now — not until later. I make it my 
duty to assist at all the first appear- 
ances of our girls.” 

“ Do not delay anything half so 
interesting as a trip abroad, to wit- 
ness my ‘ coming out ’ — I assure you 
it will be but a disappointment. I 
overheard mother tell auntie I was 


25 


FALIvIN A 


sure to be an unsatisfactory debutante 
as I am so ‘colorless.’” 

Effingham scanned the eager young 
face beside him curiously, to read in 
it, if possible, how far she believed 
her mother’s words, but was met with 
such a look of blank un-concern and 
innocence, that he changed his mind 
about making the stereotyped com- 
pliment the occasion and incident 
seemed to call for. He was inter- 
rupted with — 

“ Mr. Effingham ” — measuring him 
mentally to see how far she might 
trust him, then as if reassured by 
what she saw — “I cannot see why I 
.should have a special ‘ coming out.’ 
I was afraid to ask mother fearing 
she would laugh. I thought if people 
went out to dinner among ‘grown-ups’ 
they had come out sufficiently, and I 
was one of those present at the dinner 
mother gave to Prince Albrecht.” 

A far-away puzzled look came into 
.the young face. 


26 


F ALLIN A 


Of social etFics, Effingham had 
made a life-long study, and no one 
was better posted than he upon certain 
points. Theodora could have sought 
information from no one so well versed 
in the subject, but at this juncture 
Miss Granby and the Count made a 
descent upon their retreat. 

Beryl Granby was wont to allow men 
to exert themselves for her entertain- 
ment, being too indolent to exert her- 
self. She was not without certain con- 
versational talent, but rarely ever took 
the pains to exhibit it. On the present 
occasion, however, there was a prize at 
stake, which she felt she could not 
afford to lose, having been casting 
about for just this ‘‘ catch, the past 
three seasons since her debut. Von 
Straben was attracted to her from the 
first, through what he designated as her 
dignified quiet, so much in contrast to 
the American girls he had already met. 

“Ah ! Theo, may we join you in 
this cozy nook?’’ 

'>.7 


F ALLIN A 


“Certainly, Beryl. I do think Mr. 
Effingham and I have had the best 
place on the boat.” Then utterly ob- 
livious of the amused expression on 
the face of Von Straben, she con- 
tinued : “I certainly am glad that 
I am young, and not expected like 
mamma and the other ‘dowager duch- 
esses ’ to sit in a stuffy salon to 
entertain royalty.” 

Like oil on the troubled waters came 
BeryPs soothing voice: “But, my dear, 
doubtless those who have the privilege 
of chatting with His Royal Highness, 
are far from uncomfortable and are 
greatly entertained.” 


23 


CHAPTER V. 


Two montlis passed by before “ Fal- 
lina Marie,” as ber parents called Her, 
was enabled to go again into tbe open 
air. Then only, however, in a wheeled 
chair, the latter an importation for her 
by Mrs. Tisdale, to whom the child 
was devoted. 

The Tadescas thought Fallina Ma- 
rie’s mishap a blessing in disguise, 
since her life was spared, and she had 
won such a friend and patroness as the 
generous American. Many hitherto 
unknown comforts had crept into the 
humble home of the Tadescas, as well 
as into the Cure^s abode. The gentle 
old priest, Pere Ambroise, had won 
Catharine’s regard by his devotion to 
the little patient and the noble integ- 
rity of his daily life. A man of fine 
literary taste and with a well-stored 
mind, condemned to pass his life in 


29 


F ALLIN A 


humble village, among people far 
inferior to him in every way, Pere 
Ambroise lived happily enough among 
his people, profoundly interested as 
he was in their simple lives. With 
the coming of Mrs. Tisdale, there 
entered a new interest into his quiet 
life. Why, at times, did this charm- 
ing young woman wear so sad an 
expression ? So lately and so appar- 
ently happily wedded, with ample 
means to be comfortable as well as 
to purchase comfort for others — why 
this pathetic look on a face intended 
by nature to be sunny and unclouded? 
Thus did the old man commune with 
himself after one of his numerous 
visits to the Tadesca home. Some 
beautiful walks were found by Mrs. 
Tisdale and her maid on the out- 
skirts of the village when they took 
Fallina in her chair for an airing. 
As these walks usually took them 
near the home of Pere Ambroise, the 
perambulation generally ended with a 


30 


FAIvLIN A 


short visit to the amiable priest, which 
everyone in the party enjoyed. While 
the maid, together with Fallina looked 
at the photographs and drawings in 
the priest^ s collection, he would enter 
into conversation with Mrs. Tisdale. 
At other times it would please him 
to show them the treasures of his 
little church. There was always some- 
thing to please and entertain them, 
the priest meanwhile making a study 
of the fair woman so unexpectedly 
thrown in his way. 

On one of these occasions, while 
looking down over the beautiful valley 
from the study window of Pere Am- 
broise’s cottage, Catharine noticing the 
haymakers far below, called the atten- 
tion of the priest to their apparent 
insignificance in point of size at that 
distance. 

“ How very small they look. It 
is strange to me that the Heavenly 
Father should take note of such tiny, 
insignificant beings.*^ 


31 


FALLIN A 


‘‘Ah ! my child, He knew what it 
was to be as one of these — to use you'r 
term — insignificant ones. He became 
one of them with all their human ills. 
None of them are too humble, too 
insignificant, for His notice.’* 

“ What a pretty gleam of color they 
make with their bright kerchiefs and 
bodices against the yellow of the dry- 
ing hay.” 

“One of the prettiest girls there is 
working under peculiar and trying 
circumstances. Fantine Godet is her 
name. She was to have wedded An- 
tonio Gauthier in the autumn. Nearly 
everything was in readiness and the 
young people of the village were look- 
ing forward to the marriage fete as a 
joyous ending of the harvest season. 
A week ago Antonio had the misfor- 
tune to fall from a hay wagon and 
break one of his legs, laying him up 
during the busy season ; and, as he 
supported a widowed mother while pre- 
paring to take a wife, the mishap has 


32 


FALLIN A 


crippled his resources. They do not 
now know when the marriage will 
be consummated. Fantine is a great 
favorite among her companions, my 
parishioners, and is now assisting 
in getting her fiance's crop of hay 
stored.” 

“ Is there no one to assist them ?” 

“No; these people are all poor. In 
time of sickness or trouble of any 
kind they willingly give of what they 
possess, often reducing themselves to 
the merest necessities. Ah ! it is sad, 
but the good God has bestowed happy 
hearts and contented minds upon them, 
and there is no repining.” 

Catharine knew there was one in 
the village to whom they looked for 
help, although he modestly withheld 
this fact from her. Pere Ambroise 
had been accustomed from the begin- 
ning of his pastorate in Vingtaine to 
take of his own scanty means to 
supply his people when in absolute 
need. There was no canting hypoc- 

33 

lii 


FALLIN A 


risy about bis Christianity. He did 
not use it as a pulpit theme to be 
cast aside at other times. His was 
the religion that saw week day ser« 
vice. He rejoiced with his people in 
times of happiness ; he mourned with 
them when sorrow cast a shadow over 
them. 

Seeing that the little one had ex- 
hausted her stock of pictures Catharine 
bade good-bye to Pere Ambroise, prom- 
ising to stop in the next time they 
passed his way. 

Reaching the Tadesca home they 
were met by Fallina’s mother with 
the news that ‘‘Madame would find 
two letters, which the postillion — who 
carried the mail between several of 
the mountain villages — had left but a 
little while before.’* 

Catharine hurried into the cottage 
and there, at last, were the letters 
she had been hoping to obtain for 
several weeks past. Opening that of 
her husband first, she read it through 


34 


F ALLIN A 


Lurriedly, then re-read it more slowly. 
The contents evidently surprised her 
somewhat, from the peculiarly vague 
expression that overspread her face. 
With her hands lying listlessly in 
her lap, she gazed into space, seem- 
ingly having forgotten the other letter, 
until recalled to herself by the en- 
trance of Mme. Tadesca with the 
frugal but tempting evening meal of 
omelette, a salad and a bottle of red 
Chianti. So near was this mountain 
village to Italy that its inhabitants 
used both the French and Italian lan- 
guages, having intermarried with their 
southern neighbors and imbibed many 
of their customs and habits. Opening 
the remaining letter Catharine learned 
that her uncle John Darrell, finding 
that she was alone ministering to the 
child, who was injured by her auto- 
mobile, was now on the Atlantic, 
coming as fast as steam could bring 
him to the side of his favorite niece. 

Having seen that her little charge 


35 


FALLIN A 


had been carefully attended and placed 
in bed, after a murmured prayer, 
her heart thrilled when Fallina or 
“Folly^^ as she affectionately dubbed 
her, lisped, while placing her arms 
around her neck: “je t’aime, je t’- 
aime 

After the cold business-like letter 
of her husband, the one who had 
promised “to love and cherish her,’* 
the little one’s “I love thee” warmed 
her heart and sounded welcome in- 
deed. 

Before retiring she again drew forth 
the letter and carefully weighed each 
word, reading between the lines for 
a sign of that love he had so ardently 
professed during their courtship. The 
following was what met her eyes : 
Malvern, Pa., U. S. A., 

yune 22ny ig 

Dear Catharine : 

Yours of the 5th inst. 
received and found me hard at work. 
Nothing of importance transpired dur- 

36 


FALLIN A 


ing my absence. Business in good 
condition ; in fact there is to be a big 
advance in coal, and my coming was 
timely, as I understand more about 
this sort of thing and am able to 
give points to some of the other 
operators. However, do not suppose 
business or anything in connection 
with it interests you. I shall run 
up to “ Green Gables ” next week to 
your aunBs “coming out’* ball for 
Theo. Dame Rumor has it that Mrs. 
Dowling is hunting trouble by trying 
to ensnare a titled somebody for a 
son-in-law. Have placed 10,000 francs 
for immediate use, in your name, at 
Harjes & Co. Let me know if the 
finances run low. 

Aff. your husband, 

Guy Humphrey Tisdale. 


37 


CHAPTER VI. 


Mrs. Dowling was determined that 
Theo’s. ball should be something to 
remember in years to come, hence 
exerted every energy to the end that 
it would be a success in all respects. 
Everything that wealth and human 
ingenuity could procure and devise 
went to make this entertainment 
unique. Decorators and a small army 
of assistants were at work every day 
until the eventful one of the ball. 

Mrs. Dowling and Theodora received 
their guests in a small room opening 
into the ball-room. The room in which 
they received was fitted up in imitation 
of some beautiful green spot in the 
forest. In the centre of the room a 
fountain played into a miniature pond 
covered with water-lilies. So soft and 
thick was the green carpet on which 
they stood that it seemed the veritable 
moss of the pine woods. The pines 


38 


F A L L I N A 


themselves formed a background for 
the receiving party and filled the room 
with their resinous odor. From the 
ceiling shone the only light in this 
room : behind ground glass, the shape 
of a crescent moon. The effect was 
indescribably pretty. Mrs. Dowling in 
a softly-clinging green crep e-de-chine 
gown, embroidered with silver lilies, 
her diamonds softly glittering in the 
simulated moonlight, made a good 
foil yet completed the picture pre- 
sented by her debutante daughter. 
The latter looked a veritable wood- 
nymph. She was gowned in ivory 
white, not a jewel to mar the exquisite 
simplicity of her costume, her only 
ornament a waxen water-lily, tucked 
in the masses of her dark hair. 

It was with an audible murmur of 
admiration that the prince and his 
suite, who were among the last to 
arrive, paused at the door of the 
reception-room before advancing to 
meet their hostess. 


39 


FALLIN A 


AH ! it was for these Americans, 
with their boundless wealth, thought 
the foreigners, to compass anything so 
beautiful, so unattainable to ordinary 
mortals. 

Mrs. Dowling, with Prince Albrecht, 
Theo. with Count von Straben, made 
their entry into the ball-room. In- 
stead of wearying her guests with 
a continous list of dances, the pro- 
gram was varied with an excellent 
rendering of favorite arias from grand 
opera ; while several rooms opening 
into the ball-room served for lovers 
of cards and for those who preferred 
a quiet tete-a-tete. 

Soon with all the zest of youth the 
debutante was in the midst of the whirl 
of dancers, grace in every movement. 
There could be no doubt of the im- 
pression she made. As if to confirm 
this. Prince Albrecht who was about 
to bid good-night to his hostess com- 
municated his admiration to her, and 
expressed the hope that he might have 


40 


F ALLIN A 


tlie pleasure of meeting both mother 
and daughter in his own country in 
the near future. On Mrs. Dowling 
asking her distinguished guest to re- 
main a little longer, he pleaded an 
early start to another point the next 
day and bade her farewell. 

The departure of these high-born 
guests made little difference to the 
rest who were a little world in them- 
selves ; autocratic in their sway over 
lesser social lights. Several of them, 
however, cast wistful glances after the 
vanishing figures ; Theo., because of 
their evident unconcealed admiration 
of her ; Beryl Granby, because she 
had been unsuccessful in her attempts 
to attract and hold the Count to her 
side during the evening. She was a 
vision in a sapphire iridescent Paquin 
gown and was surrounded by a train 
of admirers throughout the evening. 
One more skillful than the rest had 
managed to lure her away from the 
others and guided her into the 


41 


FALLIN A 


seclusion of the woodland reception 
room. Seating themselves on a moss- 
covered log on one side of the clump 
of pine trees Van Bceck Effingham told 
Beryl his love for her and his regret 
that she possessed her vast wealth, 
as he did not want to be thought a 
fortune-seeker. 

“ In case you favor my suit, Beryl, 
have the blasted money settled on 
yourself or endow something with it 
that will carry your name down to 
posterity. I want you — not your 
money.” 

“Dear old Van, I know you mean 
that in all sincerity and I know of no 
one in my acquaintance who has more 
exalted principle and who possesses 
my entire respect as you do. But, 
Van, if I mistake not, you want some- 
thing else beside respect and mere 
liking — the liking I have had for you 
since we were mere boy and girl.” 

Before Effingham could reply, voices 
from the other side of the pines 


42 


FALLIN A 


silenced them. As there was no way 
of getting out of the room except 
by passing the others they had no 
choice but to remain where they 
were. 

A woman^s voice, low, passionate, 
thrilled the listeners. 

‘‘ Henry, I can brook the treatment 
I receive no longer, and, on mature 
deliberation I have concluded to take 
your advice. I shall leave early to- 
morrow for Dakota, where after a 
reasonable time, I feel confident, with 
the evidence I possess, that I shall 
be a free woman.” 

“My poor, wronged Elizabeth! 
I cannot help rejoicing that you 
are going to free yourself from that 
brute .” 

“ Hush, Henry 1 remember he is the 
father of my children and I once loved 
him — I cannot bear to hear him thus 
spoken of, although I know he de- 
serves that and more.” 

“You must let me hear from you 


43 


FALLIN A 


from time to time, if you will not 
allow me to follow you.” 

“You sHall learn of tlie result — 
but, for the present let us return to 
the ball-room, or we shall be missed. 
I felt I must confide in someone 
to-nigbt, and who more sympathetic 
than my faithful cousin, Henry ? ” 

When the rustle of Mrs. Harring- 
ton’s gown could no longer be heard 
Effingham said : “ If I mistake not, 

‘ faithful Cousin Henry’ has been in 
love with Elizabeth Harrington these 
many years. It is too bad ! It looks 
very much as though New York’s 
long list of divorces was to be in- 
creased.” 

“I see the Episcopal Clergy are tak- 
ing up the cudgels against the wide- 
spreading evil of divorce in the United 
States, and none too soon judging from 
the numerous wrecked families in our 
own circle alone. 

“Well, as we have nothing as yet to 
do with divorces, except to commiser- 


44 


FALLIN A 


ate the parties afifected, when am I 
to have an answer to my question?** 
There was something tugging at the 
heart of the proud heiress — something 
she would fain ignore. She knew long 
since the worth of Van Boeck Effing- 
ham and that he loved her, but he 
had no title to offer her, except that of 
an honest name. With downcast eyes 
she met and answered his question. 

‘‘Van Boeck, I am going abroad for 
a year. Mr. and Mrs. Dowling have 
invited me to cross on the ‘Amphitrite* 
next month. I may know my mind 
by the end of the year. In the mean- 
while I think you should not hold 
yourself pledged in anyway to me.’* 

“ God bless you. Beryl, whatever 
your decision may be ! ** 

:ii Hs H; 4: 

On returning to the ball-room they 
found the guests had been requested to 
form in lines on either side of the long 
room. The lights were lowered a trifle, 
then turned on in full through the 


45 


FALLIN A 


rose-colored shades, on what seemed 
to the guests a scene of magic. Along 
the centre of the room had appeared 
a double row of tables, each capable 
of seating four of the guests, which 
after refreshments had been served, 
disappeared as noiselessly as they had 
appeared. A gentle murmur of appro- 
bation ran through their numbers, as 
the guests seated themselves at the 
table, at the novel and complete 
arrangements for their pleasure. Two 
hours later a dim light here and there 
at Green Towers” was all that re- 
mained to remind an onlooker of one 
of the most beautiful balls ever given 
at Newport. 


46 


CHAPTER VII. 


Mrs. Barton, not understanding tlie 
true situation, yet feeling that some- 
tliing must liave gone wrong since 
Catharine was willing to allow her 
husband to return to America alone, 
questioned Guy closely on his visit 
to Green Towers.” From him she 
learned little more than she already 
knew, hence her conclusion to accept 
her sister’s invitation to go abroad with 
her, where she hoped to learn from 
Catharine, the true state of affairs, 
and perhaps, by judicious advice, to 
set right whatever might have gone 
wrong. She remembered her brother’s 
opposition to the marriage, which op- 
position she combated and overcame. 
She could not bear to admit that her 
theory was wrong. Her argument had 
always been in favor of marrying one 
of one’s own nationality. After con- 


47 


FALLIN A 


siderable opposition on her part to her 
elder daughter marrying an English- 
man, she finally consented, but drew 
her own conclusions as to the suit- 
ability of the union. 

It was a congenial party that found 
themselves aboard the “Amphitrite.” 
After the first day out, even Mrs. 
Barton, who was a bad sailor, joined 
the party on deck. It was their in- 
tention to make a landing at South- 
ampton, and then going immediately 
to Errolton, to remain there until the 
season in London would be on. Lady 
Errol, it was understood, was to present 
at Court her young cousin, Theodora 
Trainor or Dowling, as she was gen- 
erally known. 

The two elder ladies of the party 
were engaged in the latest feminine 
fancy in embroidery while sitting on 
deck. Theo was perusing “A Princess 
of Thule,” and Beryl Granby was 
fondling her fox terrier, “Nip,” while 
watching the men of the party at 


48 


F ALLIN A 


some distance from them, engaged in 
a new deck game, and anon gazing 
at the exquisite view of the sea in 
front of her. 

“So sad that Elizabeth Harrington 
had not borne her burden a few weeks 
longer,” said Mrs. Barton, looking up 
from her work. 

“I would not have stood such neg- 
lect as long as she did,” — replied her 
sister. 

“What has happened to Mrs. Har- 
rington ?” 

“Is it possible, Beryl, you have 
been so absorbed with your attendant 
swains that you have not heard of 
poor Mrs. Harrington’s application for 
a divorce? Her husband followed her 
to Dakota and shot her, then turning 
the weapon on himself ended both 
their lives, leaving those two little 
girls, their children, without natural 
protectors.” 

“ What a wretched man ! The proper 
thing for him to have done would 

49 

iv 


F ALLIN A 


Lave been to end bis own miserable 
existence, allowing bis wife to live out 
ber span of life. Sbe did mucb good, 
I fancy, as sbe was interested in many 
charitable and educational enterprises, 
I bave understood.’’ 

^‘Tbat is something I cannot under- 
stand ; why men who want to take 
themselves out of the world, in so 
many instances, insist upon taking 
with them others whose lives are 
valuable to the community.” 

These criticisms of male offenders 
were cut short by the men, who had 
finished their game, coming forward 
to join the group of women. Dowling 
placed himself conveniently near his 
wife, whom he adored, yet so that he 
could see and talk to Beryl Granby. 
Hyde Rogers, a confirmed bachelor, 
who, for years, since Mr. Barton’s 
death, had meekly followed Mrs. Barton 
from spot to spot, now seated himself 
near her. Rogers deserves a word, e7i 
passant. His was a peculiar character. 


50 


FALLIN A 


Altliougli everyone in their circle was 
aware of his devotion to Mrs. Barton, 
the object of his admiration seemed 
unaware of it, nor had he ever inti- 
mated to her or anyone the state of 
his feelings in that regard. The third 
man of the party was Worthington 
Winthrop, of Boston, on whom Mrs. 
Dowling had designs for her friend 
and relative. Beryl Granby. 

Winthrop was wont to surprise the 
people who met him for the first time, 
and who had heard of his prowess as 
an athlete during his course at Yale. 
It was true he was a young giant in 
size, but he also had the air of a stu- 
dent, a combination it was dif&cult for 
most people to comprehend. The pre- 
vious winter he took up his residence 
in New York, plunging into the A. 
B. C. of business in the broker’s o£5ce 
of his father’s friend, Edgerton Dow- 
ling. His immediate ancestors were 
unimpeachable residents of Beacon St., 
Boston, but they possessed but mod- 


51 


FALLIN A 


erate wealth. Mrs. Dowling laid her 
plans to bring wealth and family 
together in a match between this well- 
favored young pair on this yachting 
trip. At the end of the journey she 
hoped to launch her own daughter 
successfully in society, where she 
would add to her mother’s social am- 
bition by finally marrying into the 
titled ranks if all went as she planned. 
Hence, it was with a sigh of satisfac- 
tion she saw Winthrop slip into a 
chair by the side of Miss Granby. 


52 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Upon the arrival of Catharine’s uncle 
in Southern France, she submitted to 
him a plan she had been meditating. 
She would take Fallina to one of Ger- 
many’s numerous health resorts. The 
Kur Bad, the resort she proposed re- 
pairing to, was not patronized so much 
by fashionable tourists as most of the 
other German Spas. At one season of 
the year a certain Royal Personage 
was wont to hie himself there for the 
waters to overcome the effects of high 
living, at which time there was sure 
to be the usual sycophantic following. 
Happily the time Catharine chose was 
too early for that event, and she hoped 
much from the healthfulness of the 
resort for the child to whom she had 
grown so fondly attached. 

With the consent of the Tadescas, 
they took Fallina away from Vingtaine 


53 


F ALLIN A 


the second day after Mr. Darrell’s ar- 
rival. At their departure the whole 
village turned out. Catharine had be- 
come the idol and admiration of the 
simple folk, through many kindly acts 
towaid them and through her devotion 
to Fallina. The little Franco-Italian^ 
Fallina, — so quick are these people 
at learning a foreign language — had 
picked up sufficient English to under- 
stand her kind protectors, and to ex- 
press herself haltingly in the language. 
At first it was difficult to her to place 
Mr. Darrell in connection with Mrs. 
Tisdale ; she enquired frequently for 
Mrs. Tisdale’s husband, and finally 
was persuaded to think he would come 
after a while to see her. Darrell could 
not understand Catharine. Never a 
word of complaint escaped her lips 
about her absent husband. Her uncle 
had been a week or more with her 
before he broached the subject of Guy’s 
apparent desertion, and then was si- 
lenced by being told of business which 


54 


FALLIN A 


demanded his presence in America, and 
of her being unable to desert the little 
one who had been injured through no 
fault of the child. 

On arriving at the Kur Bad, a stout 
German was procured to wheel the 
chair through the grounds that led 
past the various springs. Each day it 
was his task to wheel Fallina several 
hours in the morning and again at 
evening. As Mrs. Tisdale with her 
uncle was following the chair through 
the Elisabeth Garten, on one of these 
occasions, among the many strollers 
who passed them was a man who 
started visibly upon seeing Catharine. 
Unnoticed by them he kept an eye 
upon Mrs. Tisdale and her party and 
on their return to the hotel followed 
them, and even went so far as to enter 
the house and make . some inquiries 
afterward. 

^ ❖ 

“Uncle, do you see any change in 
Folly since you are here, or rather,. 


55 


FAIvLIN A 


since you first saw Her? It may be 
only anxiety on my part for a speedy 
recovery, but it seems to me she looks 
so listless since Here. Sbe is naturally 
a bright little thing.” 

‘‘Are you positive Lajambe diagnosed 
the case aright ?” 

“ Everyone seems to place implicit 
faith in him.” 

“Well, Cathie, of course I am not 
competent to judge, but I should think 
by this time she would be able to walk 
about instead of being wheeled from 
spot to spot. What a winsome little 
thing she is and so patient through 
it all.” 

“Yes, and brave too. With all the 
care she had the first few weeks must 
have been filled with suffering for her, 
yet she was always uncomplaining and 
ready to greet those who waited upon 
her with a smile. Dr. Lajambe said, 
though, several months would elapse 
before she would be able to walk or 
play about as other children do.” 


56 


FALLIN A 


“Were yon astonislied at the news- 
contained in my letter from your 
mother, this morning ?” 

“Yes, rather;” was the laconic reply. 

“ In spite of your mother^s extrava- 
gant fondness for you, I think she is 
coming over quite as much to see that 
Annabelle does not sacrifice Theodora 
to her social ambition as to mother 
her own fledgling. Eh, Cathie ?” 

“ I think mother does disapprove of 
much that Aunt Annabelle delights 
in. That she is fond of Theo I am 
convinced. But, aside from a natural 
longing to see Agnes and me, there 
was no necessity to cross merely to 
be with me.” 

Unconscious of her uncle’s scrutiny, 
Catharine’s pallor and sadness in* 
creased in alluding to her own appar- 
ently abandoned estate. 

In John Darrell’s make-up there was 
a vein of humor, which, combined with 
a natural kindliness, continually drew 
people to him. To draw Catharine’s 


57 


F ALLIN A 


thoughts from herself he called her 
attention to a party of German people 
seated at a little iron table, outside a 
small “gasthans,” beside which people 
were eating and drinking. 

“ Does it ever occur to you what 
heavy eaters the German people are ? 
They are anything but etherial look- 
ing. It is hard to reconcile their 
magnificent achievements in science 
and art with their stolid countenances 
and over-fed bodies. Look at that fat 
frau and her daughter equally stout, 
consuming bread, sausage and beer as 
if they were starving.” 

This had the effect of taking Catha- 
rine’s mind from her own affairs. 
Much as she admired the sterling 
qualities of the German people, she 
admitted the apparent inconsistency 
her uncle alluded to. As far as good 
breeding would allow she glanced at 
the different groups in the place. Her 
gaze was arrested, however, by a soli- 
tary occupant of one of the tables. 


58 


F ALLIN A 


This person was a young man, appar- 
ently twenty-eight or twenty-nine years 
of age, whose countenance, disfigured 
by dissipation, told its own sad tale. 
His gaze was riveted on Catharine’s 
face in such manner as almost to seem 
insolent, causing her to redden visibly 
and to withdraw her eyes from that 
direction. As they passed by the 
tables, this man rose to his feet hur- 
riedly as if to accost them ; then, as 
if changing his mind, resumed his 
place, while his steady gaze followed 
them out of sight. 


59 


CHAPTER IX. 


The hot baths of the Kur Bad were 
supposed to complete Folly’s cure, but 
the little maid fell ill before they 
could be sufficiently tested. Lajambe 
was again summoned, but being en- 
gaged on a very important case else- 
where, he could not obey the summons 
at once. Dr. Remercier, a surgeon of 
almost equal renown, was sent in his 
stead. 

At first the case looked grave. Not 
a murmur passed the lips of the suf- 
fering child, but the mute, drawn look 
of the pathetic little face told of the 
pain she was suffering. Unknown to 
Catharine, Mr. Darrell sent for Pere 
Ambroise and the parents of the little 
one, who arrived the next day. It 
was soon seen the attack was not as 
serious as they first feared and the 
Tadescas returned at once to Vingt- 


6o 


FALLIN A 


aigne, as it was witli difficulty they 
were enabled to leave their little family 
for the two or three days already 
spent away from their home. Cath- 
arine was glad to find that Pere Am- 
broise would be able to remain for the 
week. He not only benefited the sick 
child but soothed the strained nerves 
of Mrs. Tisdale. After the latter was 
reassured that Folly, as she was now 
known, was out of danger, she sought 
Pere Ambroise to tell him she wished 
to ask his advice upon a subject that 
had been troubling her, more or less, 
for a month past. Assuring her that 
he was fully at her service, she asked 
if the hour immediately following sup- 
per would suit him. Midday dinner 
being the regulation thing in Germany, 
that meal was already a thing of the 
past. Reassured by the priest’s kindly 
benignant look now bent upon herself, 
Catharine began : 

“ From the kindly interest you be- 
stow upon me, a stranger, dear Father, 

6i 


FALLIN A 


I am emboldened to approach you in 
this confidential manner. That you 
are accustomed in your church to listen 
in the confessional to recitals of the 
sorrows and woes of those in your 
charge, I well know — but this from 
one of another church may be different. 
My pride will not permit me to ask 
advice of those nearest me, my mother 
and uncle. Something impels me to 
come to you. Refuse me if you will ; 
but I felt that at least I might make 
the request that you hear me.” 

“You are right, my dear child; I 
am interested in you — in your disdain 
of the great fashionable world in which 
you have evidently moved ; in your 
high sense of honor ; and above all, 
m your love for and devotion to an 
humble child who has no claim what- 
ever upon your time and consideration 
other than her accident entailed. But, 
you speak of your mother and Uncle. 
Do you not have confidence in your 
husband’s guidance ? Why not appeal 


62 


FALLIN A 


to him ? Speak on frankly and openly, 
with me. It is my desire, if possible, 
to aid yon.” 

In as few words as possible Catha- 
rine told him of the cloud that was 
obscuring her married life. Minutely 
she described the events that led to 
the present separation from her hus- 
band, of the few letters that had passed 
between them since her husband’s de- 
parture and of the increasing brevity 
and coldness of those that did come 
from him. She spoke of the fervent 
love she had for her husband which 
could only end with life, she felt, but, 
at the same time, acknowledged a 
loss of respect with his increasing 
obstinacy. Just what to do under 
the circumstances she was puzzled to 
know. Sighing deeply the good man 
remained in thought some minutes 
after she ceased speaking. 

“What I may advise you to do, you 
are naturally at liberty to follow or 
not, as you see fit. If you will only 


63 


F A L L I N A 


keep in mind tkrougliout yonr life, 
that portion of yonr marriage vows, in 
which you promised “ for better, for 
worse,’’ to cling to one another, the way 
will be clear to you. No matter how 
difficult this will be, yon have given 
your word at God’s altar. Yonr duty 
at present is, first of all, at your hus- 
band’s side ; therefore, write to him, 
ignoring his coldness, which, after all, 
I think, is only mortified pride. Ask 
him if you shall go to him or whether 
he will come to you, but, above all, do 
not grow further apart ! ” 

Thanking Father Ambroise for speak- 
ing so plainly with her, Catharine got 
ready for a walk with her uncle, which 
she felt the need of after the last few 
days’ confinement in the sick room. 
As they were nearing the hotel on 
their return from the walk, Mr. Dar- 
rell asked Catharine if she was afraid 
to go the remaining distance alone, as 
there was something he promised to 
obtain for Dr. Remercier, and which 


64 


FALLIN A 


lie had. forgotten until that moment. 
Catharine bade him return and quietly 
resumed her way to the hotel, so en- 
grossed in her own thoughts that she 
had not noticed a man approaching to 
her side until he accosted her. 

“I had not expected this pleasure 
awaiting me here ! 

With a start and suppressed scream 
Catharine drew herself away from the 
handsome, dissipated face so near her 
own. 

“Although you did refuse my hand, 
Catharine, for the wealthy Guy Tis- 
dale, I had faith in you and your devo- 
tion to him. Now’’ — an indescribably 
sneering tone entered the man’s voice — 
“ I find you separated from him after 
a few months’ married life ! What is 
it, Cathie? Did you after all make a 
mistake ? ” 

“George Kingsley — is it you? — I did 
not recognize you — changed as you are. 
You are mistaken ; I am not separated 
from my husband ; only remained be- 


65 


FALLIN A 


hind him to assist in restoring to 
health a little child our automobile ran 
down and maimed.” 

“So yon find me changed. That is 
not, after all, to be wondered at. I 
have been going the pace that kills^ 
trying to rid the world of a useless 
member of society.” 

“You must not talk so, George. 
Think of your brilliant mental gifts ; 
think of your mother’s admiration and 
love for yon ! ” 

“Thanks to the powers that be, she 
is no longer here to witness my orgies 
— my fall from the pedestal upon which 
she placed me ! ” 

“Poor George!” 

“ Don’t waste sympathy upon me, 
Cathie. It seems to be my portion to 
be deserted and alone. But” — with a 
look in the eye that belied his words 
— “I am glad Guy did not desert you, 
as many think.” 

Catharine winced at the last cruel 
words, but determined not to take um- 


66 


F A L L I N A 


brage at anything be might say, cheer- 
fully bade him good-night as they 
reached the hotel. Instead of going to 
a gaming table as had been his wont, 
George Kingsley paced up and down 
one of the deserted walks of the Gar- 
ten, going over the details of a scheme 
that had originated in his fertile brain 
on seeing Catharine the first time since 
her marriage. Evidently coming to a 
definite conclusion, he consulted his 
watch and finding it near midnight, he 
went to his hotel. As he put out his 
candle he murmured to himself : ‘‘It 
is worth the game; I think she will 
not refuse a second time.” 


67 


CHAPTER X. 

After the first shock of surprise at 
seeing George Kingsley was over, Cath- 
arine when alone, tried to trace in the 
dissipated countenance of the man she 
had j ust seen, the features of the bright, 
manly young fellow she had known in 
her early girlhood. 

They were but children when they 
first met, the country places of their 
parents adjoining. George was an only 
child and as there were no boys in the 
neighborhood he was only too glad to 
avail himself of Catharine’s companion- 
ship. She proved an excellent one too. 
One day in the autumn, in that free 
untrammeled time of her girlhood, she 
remembered climbing a tree almost as 
nimbly as her companion, who finally 
placed the stamp of his approval on her 
agility and skill by saying: “Cathie, 


68 


FALLIN A 


you are a brick ! I don’t know any 
boy wbo could have done better.” 

That tbe boyisb admiration ripened 
into something warmer she was not 
aware until George was about to enter 
college, when she succeeded in warding 
off a declaration by laughing unexpect- 
edly at the profoundly serious expres- 
sion of her former playmate. Highly 
offended the youthful lover fled from 
her presence. For several years, except 
for an intermittent correspondence, she 
learned little of young Kingsley, as she 
was in Europe pursuing her studies and 
he at college. 

When Mrs. Burton and Catharine 
came from their protracted sojourn 
abroad and the announcement of Cath- 
arine’s engagement to Tisdale followed, 
George Kingsley was astounded and 
would not believe it until it was con- 
firmed by Catharine herself Then fol- 
lowed a season of wild dissipation which 
threatened effectually to put an end to 
a successful career of any kind in the 


69 


FALLIN A 


business world for George. Through her 
mother, Mrs. Burton, Catharine learned 
afterward that George had settled down 
to his profession and his widowed mother 
had every hope for a different future for 
her son than that which had wrecked 
the life of his father, her husband. 

Several days elapsed after the unex- 
pected and painful meeting and in the 
self-imposed duties attendant upon the 
care of the little invalid, Catharine, 
naturally buoyant, forgot the encounter 
with her former admirer, even neglect- 
ing to mention the fact to her uncle, 
of whose sympathy and devotion she 
could have no doubt. 


70 


CHAPTER XI. 


The invasion of an American, Agnes 
Barton, as Lady Errol at Errolton, had 
changed somewhat the customs and 
habits of the ancestral abode of the Er- 
rols. Instead of the prim house-party 
given during the hunting-season. Lady 
Errol was in the habit of running down 
to Errolton every time she had any of 
her American friends on hand to en- 
tertain, as Errolton was a favorite spot 
with her. Mrs. Barnes, the house- 
keeper, had long since become accus- 
tomed to the change and was not sur- 
prised at this time of the year, when 
most of the gentry were in London, to 
receive word that a party of ten would 
reach Errolton the next evening. 

Lady Errol did not confine her invi- 
tation to her relatives aboard the “Am- 
phitrite,” but included their guests as 
her own. In addition, her husband’s 


71 


F A Iv L I N A 


sister, the Hon. Marjory Errol and Sir 
Chetwynd Atherton were asked to Er- 
rolton at this time. 

When Mrs. Dowling learned that 
Atherton was the heir of the old Earl of 
Castleton, she made plans to lay siege 
for the capture of the young man for 
her daughter forthwith. She was de- 
lighted to see that without any effort 
on her part the youthful pair became 
friends from the start. 

The Errols were possessed of some 
fine horses and as the roads around 
Errolton were very good, the younger 
ones of the party spent much of 
their time in the saddle. Marjor^^ 
Errol, always timid about horses, pre- 
ferred going in the carriage with her 
elders. 

Both Beryl and Theo were good 
horsewomen and looked their best on 
horse-back. The morning before the 
house party broke up they cantered 
down the drive. Sir Chetwynd and 
Theo leading. Beryl and Winthrop fol- 


72 


F ALIvIN A 


lowing. They kept up a merry chatter 
until well out upon the road. 

“ Miss Dowling, is not your mount 
somewhat fresh ? It seems he is pull- 
ing you considerably.” 

“I rather like that; it keeps my mind 
upon him.” 

Just as she finished speaking a bird 
flew from out the copse on the other 
side of the road and Theo felt that she 
was in for a bad quarter of an hour, 
as her horse shot out from the group 
of riders. The rest, all unprepared for 
the sudden bolt of Theo’s mount, fok 
lowed in such order as they could. 
Winthrop being mounted upon “Wild- 
fire,” the fleetest horse in the stables, 
was soon ahead of the others. It looked 
for a time as if Theo had the animal 
under control, when a mad dash ahead, 
showed those behind that such was not 
the case. Winthrop urged “Wildfire” 
to his utmost speed; none too soon, 
however, as Theo’s strength was about 
exhausted, when Winthrop, leaning for* 


73 


FALLIN A 


ward and gripping his horse firmly 
with his strong, finely formed legs, 
threw both arms around the neck of 
Theo’s steed and with a powerful 
wrench brought him to a standstill. 
This accomplished, he withdrew one 
arm, placing it around Theo, who, for 
the space of a moment exhibited the 
natural tendency of her sex, to weaken 
when all danger was past. Rallying, 
however, she again grasped the bridle 
and soon had control of the now sub- 
dued steed. 

As the others rounded the bend 
which had hidden the run-away from 
view they came upon Theo and Win- 
throp riding as if nothing had hap- 
pened to mar the quiet and enjoyment 
of their ride. They begged Theo to re- 
turn to the house after the fatigue and 
excitement of such an adventure, but 
she assured them she was only a little 
shaken and would be the better of con- 
tinuing her ride in the open air. 

Sir Chetwynd gazed with admiration 


74 


F ALLIN A 


at tliis fearless girl. Few Englislimen 
fail to admire pluck of tkat nature in 
a woman, and witk an ingenuity re- 
markable for one of bis indolent nature, 
be managed to place Miss Granby in 
Wintbrop’s care, and bimself at tbe 
side of Tbeo. 

Tbe nigbt after tbeir arrival in 
London tbey filled a box at Xhe Duke 
of York Theatre, where friends of tbe 
Error s took advantage of tbe oppor- 
tunity to meet tbeir American guests. 
To Mrs. Dowling’s annoyance Tbeo 
deliberately ignored tbe presence of 
Sir Cbetwynd Atherton after tbe first 
salutation, apparently engrossed in tbe 
attention and conversation of Hugh 
Dacres, a young man about town, who 
was received everywhere, but who bad 
neither great name nor fortune to look 
forward to. 

From tbe number of men who came 
to tbe Errol’s box that evening, it 
was easily seen that tbe Americans 
would score a success while in London. 


75 


FALLIN A 


THeo was listening to an invitation 
to attend, with her mother, the Ascot 
races the week following, when she 
was attracted by the steady gaze of 
a man in the stalls. As she glanced 
toward him he dropped the glasses 
with which he had been looking at 
her and turned, hut, as if unable to 
keep his, gaze from her face, turned 
again in that direction before she had 
removed her eyes from him. Simul- 
taneously they started, then looked 
away. What was there in this middle- 
aged man, distinguished looking as he 
was, that could attract a young girl 
like Theo ? Secretly the rest of the 
evening they furtively, from time to 
time, examined each other’s faces. 

After Theo’s maid had left her, 
apparently ready for bed that night, 
the young girl sat, a lovely picture 
of youth and innocence, pondering the 
strange face seen at the theatre, the 
vision of which kept recurring to her 
with annoying persistence. Where had 


76 


FALLIN A 


she seen that grave, handsome face 
before, with its kindly, benignant look? 
With a shrug of the shoulders, she 
put out the light with the murmured 
words: ‘‘Theo, yon are such a little 
goose !” 


77 


CHAPTER XII. 


Theo was not pleased that her 
mother had accepted the invitation 
of the Atherton’s for Ascot week. She 
dimly realized that her mother had 
some plan she wished to carry out. 
That she herself was included in this 
plan she vaguely felt, but to what 
extent or in what way she could not 
divine ; hence her discomfort at the 
thought of this visit. 

Chetwynd Atherton could make him- 
self very agreeable when he chose to do 
so, and, as he was very much enam- 
ored of this capricious little American 
girl, he exerted himself to the utmost 
to the end that his guests should be 
pleasantly entertained at Wyndhurst. 
Mrs. Barton was not of the party. In 
company with Beryl Granby she had 
gone to Paris, where the latter met 


78 


FALLIN A 


some friends with, whom she was going 
to travel, while Mrs. Barton hastened 
to the German Springs to relieve her 
growing anxiety about her younger 
daughter. Theo saw her aunt depart 
with regret, for she felt indefinably 
that Mrs. Barton wielded an influence 
over her mother, bringing out the 
best that was in her. 

Wyndhnrst was noted for its hos- 
pitality. It was a large and gay party 
that gathered there for Ascot week. 
Atherton was rather anxious to have 
his friends see and meet the pretty 
young girl whom he intended to in- 
stall as mistress of his heart and home 
at Wyndhnrst. Among the horses 
entered for the race was one from 
the Atherton stables. Not all of the 
Wyndhnrst party attended the first 
running. Among those who remained 
behind was Mrs. Dowling. In youth- 
ful exuberance Theo, who had accom- 
panied her host and four or five of 
the house guests, looked with admi- 


79 


FALLIN A 


ration upon tlie scene before ber, and 
the beautiful wide expanse of the 
English country-side. It was some- 
thing new to her girlish eyes, this 
array of well-dressed women, who, with 
the men, seemed bent solely upon dis- 
cussing the merits of this or that 
horse. 

“Ah I to see your innocent enjoy- 
ment of this is to make one envy 
yoii,’^ said Atherton, as he gazed into 
her spirited face. 

“Cannot yon enjoy it the same year 
after year?’’ 

“It is not the same after one has 
witnessed the thing several times over. 
It is true there is always more or less 
excitement in attending the races, but 
never the same after the first time ; 
especially when one’s appreciation has 
been dulled by seeing too much.” 

With this Atherton’s voice took on 
the drawl that she never heard with- 
out an inward shrinking from him. 
She liked him well enough, in a way, 

So 


FALLIN A 


but, when at Errolton, compared him 
unfavorably with Winthrop whose stal- 
wart, manly vigor had won her admi- 
ration. At this juncture, her mind 
reverted to him and she wondered in 
what part of the world he was now 
wandering. 

Atherton excused himself from his 
guests to talk with the groom who 
was to ride his horse. 

While chatting with Mrs. Knowlton, 
one of the party, Theo recognized, 
with a start, the man who had so 
much interested her a few nights 
before, at the theatre. He was busily 
engaged acknowledging the salutation 
of those of the party with whom he 
was acquainted. Mrs. Knowlton turn- 
ing, presented Theo to Mr. Belfield, 
saying, as she did so : “ It is the 
celebrated Mr. Belfield, of whose suc- 
cess in the field of scientific research 
you have doubtless heard.” 

So this was the learned Gerald 
Belfield ! Again the puzzled, baffled 


vi 


8i 


F ALLIN A 


feeling that she had before seen this 
man, came upon Theodora. Even the 
tones of his voice seemed familiar. 
Yet his glance swept over her as if 
he had never seen her, although he 
took particular pains to describe some 
things about the races that did not 
seem clear to the young girl. All of 
the time he talked with her his keen 
eyes were devouring the young face 
beside him. 

“Ah ! Belfield, what has induced 
you to leave your beloved books for 
anything so out of your line as the 
races ?” 

“Doubtless the desire for change 
that seems inherent in human nature.” 

With this he assisted Theo to the 
seat in front of the drag where Ath- 
erton soon followed to take the ribbons. 

Belfield followed the party out of 
sight with a lingering glance, sighing 
deeply as he turned away. That night 
after dinner, when some of the guests 
were engaged at Bridge, others listen- 


82 


FALLIN A 


mg to tlie musical efforts of one of 
tlie party, Atherton managed to draw 
Theo apart, with the promise of show- 
ing her a collection of curios he had 
made on his travels through the far 
East. 

“ Miss Theodora, you have little 
idea how alarmed we all were the 
morning your horse took fright and 
ran away at Errol ton.” 

“Yes, I realized that and appre- 
ciated it as well as the fact that you, 
one and all, kept your promise not to 
tell mamma, whom it would have un- 
necessariljr alarmed. She would never 
have permitted me to mount a horse 
again, as she does not encourage my 
fancy for horses at all.” 

“It makes me shudder yet to think 
how nearly you came to being killed.” 

A merry laugh interrupted and some- 
what disconcerted her admirer. 

“I was perfectly safe; I yet had 
the bridle firmly when the horse was 
stopped.’’ 


83 


FALLIN A 


have anathematized my luck ever 
since, that Winthrop had the fleetest 
horse and he was able thus to save 
your precious life.” 

This was an unfortunate allusion, 
as it seemed to bring back Winthrop’s 
prowess to Theo, and caused her men- 
tally to compare the two men much 
to the disadvantage of the one present. 

“ I want you to answer a question 
I am about to put to you. You leave 
here to-morrow for London ; before 
going I want to tell you how much 
I love you, and that I have your 
mother’s consent in asking you to 
become my wife.” 

Theo was too young to realize that 
it was rather questionable taste on the 
part of her host to press his suit 
when she was a guest in his own 
home, but it did flash across her mind 
that this was what her mother had 
been planning. 

“Sir Chetwynd, you honor me 
greatly, but — ” with a descent from 


84 


FALLIN A 


lier grandiloquent manner — “ I do not 
wisH to be married yet.” 

“ If tbat is all, I shall willingly 
wait a reasonable time to win you in 
the end. Is this a compact ?” 

Why should a vision of Winthrop 
intervene at this moment ? Only the 
perversity of fate could explain it. — 

“ Let me think it over. I do not 
dislike you, but I would like to see 
something more of life before I marry — 
if ever I do — ” she added roguishly. 

“Well, I will try to be content with 
that half-promise this time, but for 
how long I cannot say.” 

Mrs. Dowling thought everything 
was going as she wished when she 
glanced in the direction of her daugh- 
ter and their host, and thought also 
of her own wonderful run of luck at 
cards that night. 

Unfortunately for her continuous 
luck at cards, she allowed her mind 
to wander too often to her triumphs 
in the future with a prospective Earl 


85 


FALLIN A 


as a son-in-law. She trumped her part- 
ner’s ace and made several bad plays 
causing her run of good fortune to 
change before the evening ended. 


86 


CHAPTER XIII. 


The master of Wyndhurst had pre- 
vailed on his guests to extend their 
visit over a few days. 

It devolved upon Mrs. Dowling to pre- 
side over the tea-cups the evening after 
the races. 

No one noticed anything unusual in 
that lady’s manner or that her fair, 
jewelled hand trembled as she handled 
the dainty cups. It was known only 
to her that instead of the time of rest 
and repose she had counted upon in 
the absence of the rest, she had put 
through an exceedingly exciting and 
uncomfortable day. 

About an hour after the party left 
the house for the races a maid pre- 
sented herself with the announcement 
that Mrs. Keith-Dalton was in the draw- 
ing-room to call upon the friends of Sir 
Chetwynd Atherton. The maid offered 


87 


F ALLIN A 


apology for disturbing Mrs. Dowling but 
as all tbe rest bad gone away sbe said 
sbe bad no other alternative. 

In anything but a pleasant frame of 
mind at being disturbed Mrs. Dowling 
made her way to tbe drawing-room to be 
met by a tall, graceful woman, whose 
chief claim to attention at first glance 
was her faultless complexion ; a pos- 
session shared by most English women. 
She was undeniably handsome and the 
winning, gracious manner with which 
she advanced to meet Mrs. Dowling 
served to enhance her charm. It was 
not long until she had skilfully drawn 
from Mrs. Dowling, astute woman of the 
world though the latter was, of what 
number the house-party consisted and 
what their plans were during their stay 
at Wyndhurst. Try as she would and 
did Mrs. Dowling gleaned very little 
from her fair visitor. Yet when the 
latter took her departure after leaving 
invitations for the party to dine with 
her the next evening, Mrs. Keith-Dal- 


88 


FALLIN A 


ton left her hostess with a very dis- 
tinct impression that there was a tie 
stronger than that which mere neigh- 
borliness would engender between Sir. 
Chetwynd and herself. To what extent 
this would interfere with her plans for 
marrying her daughter to Sir Chet- 
wynd she could not conjecture, but she 
determined at her earliest opportunity 
to find out all about the mysterious 
and fascinating woman whose visit had 
made her so uncomfortable. 

Mrs. Dowling drew herself a cup of 
tea — somewhat stronger than she had 
given the others, — then signalling her 
host to withdraw from the rest, she told 
him she wished to speak with him 
aside. 

“ I fear. Madam, you had but a lonely 
time to-day when we all deserted you 
for King Horse!” 

“On the contrary. Sir Chetwynd, the 
time passed quickly and not without 
some excitement 1 ” 

“ I beg you to relieve my curiosity by 


89 


FALLIN A 


telling me wliat could have happened 
in this quiet abode to have so pleasantly 
diverted you ? ” 

had a visitor — one of your neigh- 
bors I believe — and one who gave me 
to understand” — coming to the point 
and scanning his lordship’s face nar- 
rowly as she did so — ^‘that she had 
more than an ordinary interest in this 
house and its master ! ” 

Just the faintest flicker of annoy- 
ance crossed the face of Atherton ere 
he recovered his self-possession and 
collected his wits to reply to the fair 
inquisitor and mother of the girl he 
so much admired. 

“ O that must have been my cousin, 
Ethel Dalton, or to speak of her more 
properly, Mrs. Keith - Dalton. Fine 
woman, Ethel, but given to prying 
into her neighbor’s affairs. She goes 
a little beyond her gait” — Sir Chet- 
wynd was nothing if not horsey — 
“ here on account probably of her rela- 
tionship and my having been chummy 


90 


FALLIN A 


with her since she was in pina- 
fores. Her life has not been one of 
the easiest either. Married when a 
beautiful slip of a girl, fresh from a 
convent in Ireland, to a man of twice 
her years, the Hon. Keith-Dalton, he 
made life miserable for her with his 
jealous imaginings. Finally, in a fit 
of this kind he committed suicide!’^ 
Having exhausted himself with this 
unusually long speech, Atherton re- 
lapsed into silence which was broken 
by Mrs. Dowling. 

How long since this happened ? ” 
^‘Two years back.’’ 

“Strange such a handsome woman 
would not have married twice and dis- 
posed of her life more happily.” 

“ Doubtless she found one taste of 
married life enough, and she seems now 
only to think of improving and ex- 
tending her property in the interest of 
her young son, now a student at 
Eton. ” 

Finding that she could gain no in- 


91 


FALLIN A 


formation from Atherton, yet feeling 
there was something being withheld 
from her, Mrs. Dowling rose to termi- 
nate the talk and mingled with the 
others preparatory to going to her room 
to dress for dinner. 

Left to himself the baronet gave vent 
to a low whistle and a soliloquy some- 
what after the following : 

‘‘Now what the mischief is Ethel 
up to — and how did she know about 
my guests? I have not seen her in 
two months. Last time I was here she 
was in Ireland. Well, she is a met- 
tlesome filly, and will do some kick- 
ing when she hears the news, and she 
has some cause to do so, but that shall 
not alter my determination to win the 
charming American, nevertheless. How 
cleverly I outwitted ‘Madame la M^re’ 
when she tried to quiz me just now. 
She’s a shrewd runner but I came out 
a neck ahead that time, old boy, didn’t 
I?” 

Thus mentally patting himself on 


92 


FALLIN A 


the back Sir Chetwynd sauntered off 
leisurely to prepare to meet bis guests 
at dinner, little thinking that a ser- 
vant in his employ, one who had 
brought in the tea, had been spying 
upon him, ready to convey news of the 
latest happenings to Mrs. Keith-Dal- 
ton. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


“No, Gaines, I sliall not drive,” 
said Mrs. Dalton as slie seated herself 
in the light wagonette behind the 
prancing bays, “Wormwood and Gall,” 
which she had driven with so much 
skill and enjoyment to “Wyndhnrst” 
an hour before. The groom after one 
glance at his mistress and noting her 
preoccupied air sprang lightly to his 
place and they were soon tooling home- 
ward over the highway. 

In moody silence the handsome 
woman drove home. Was Chetwynd 
Atherton, after all his devotion, a de- 
votion that had cost her husband his 
life, going back on her? Two years 
had elapsed since the tragedy, ample 
time for the “convenances” to be ob- 
served in the way of waiting a reason- 
able time, yet Atherton had not spoken. 
At all events she was now on the alert 


94 


FALLIN A 


and would pay more attention to tHe 
tales the man Sterritt brought her, 
which she had paid little heed to 
hitherto. Sterritt had formerly been 
in her employ and like all her ser- 
vants abjectly devoted to her. At her 
husband’s death she had reduced her 
household and at her recommendation 
Sir Chetwynd had taken Sterritt into 
his employ. At the time finding that 
any news concerning his employer or 
his household seemed to prove inter- 
esting to his former mistress, Sterritt 
made a point of keeping her informed 
upon all that was going on and in 
that way Mrs. Keith-Dalton was made 
aware of the house-party and of its 
host’s devotion to the young Ameri- 
can girl. 

In compliment to the Americans of 
the party Mrs. Keith-Dalton’s dinner 
table and drawing-room the following 
night were decorated with American 
beauty roses. The lights were sub- 
dued and lessened, shining softly 


95 


F ALLIN A 


tHrough rose-colored globes. At that 
time in England in entertaining one’s 
guests at dinner to introduce some- 
thing novel in the way of amusement 
was indeed to make a success of what 
was ordinarily a deadly dull affair. 
In driving through the wooded country 
outside her own land recently and 
seeing a band of gypsies encamped 
there, Mrs. Keith-Dalton conceived the 
idea of inducing one of them, through 
a liberal offer of silver, to read the 
palms of her guests’ hands after din- 
ner. 

After the coffee was served in the 
drawing-room the guests were requested 
to repair to a small reception-room 
off the entrance hall and to their 
amazement found the room fitted out 
like the interior of a gypsy camp 
and a bona fide gypsy in its midst. 
Much merriment resulted from this 
innovation of the hostess. At last the 
fortunes for good or ill of the various 
persons had been told, when it was 


96 


FALLIN A 


discovered tliat Sir Clietwynd’s and 
Mrs. Keith-Dalton’s were the only ones 
untold. The latter excused herself by 
saying she had her palm read the 
day she discovered the camp. Then a 
clamor arose over Atherton. To please 
them he extended his hand to the 
swarthy, dark-browed woman. 

On glancing at the palm of his left 
hand she rattled off a jingle about 
life-line, head-line and strength of will ; 
suddenly she scanned his hand closely, 
eagerly caught up his right hand to 
compare it with the left and corrob- 
orate what she saw there, murmur- 
ing to herself as she did so: “The 
gentleman has had many affairs of 
the heart and escaped lightly with 
no injury to himself but it would be 
well to guard against the anger of a 
woman whom he would antagonize in 
a love affair he is now about to enter 
into. 

So dramatic was the woman’s man- 
ner that it was sometime before the 


vii 


07 


FALLIN A 


thought of her utterances could be 
banished from the minds of the guests. 

After their departure Mrs. Keith- 
Dalton congratulated herself upon her 
ruse to intimidate Atherton and went 
to sleep with a vision of that person- 
age again her adoring lover. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THere was something so unique 
about Theodora Dowling that she took 
the social world of London by storm. 
Mrs. Dowling was radiant over her 
success, and instead of being angry 
with Theo for putting off Atherton 
for the present, concluded that it was 
probably for the best since she might 
yet have a better offer. Theo through 
it all remained unchanged by the adu- 
lation she received, and at times was 
rather bored than pleased with Ather- 
ton’s assiduous attentions. She had 
several other suitors during the season, 
but she did not like them as well as 
Atherton, and, as they were untitled, 
Mrs. Dowling did not encourage their 
advances. 

It was at a “Drawing Room” at 
Marlborough House, that Theo won 
for herself the title “ Queen of the 
Lilies.” Her gown was white, em- 
broidered with tiny sprays of lilies-of- 
LOFC.99 


F ALLIN A 


til e-valley in silver tliread ; no jewels 
save a small string of pearls fitting 
closely around lier neck. A spray of 
lilies-of-tke-valley carried in tlie left 
hand completed the simple, elegant 
and tasteful costume. 

Sir Chetwynd Atherton was lost in 
admiration of this vision of loveliness, 
and could not resist the inclination to 
press his suit. Theo, however, clung 
to her earlier resolution not to bind 
herself at present. 

The next day in recounting the in- 
cidents of the evening before, Mrs. 
Dowling discovered that Atherton had 
again been set aside indefinitely. She 
had begun to think the chances were 
growing less for a more advantageous 
match, and wanted to make sure of 
this one. Therefore she spoke very 
plainly to Theo, giving her to under- 
stand that it would have pleased her 
if she had accepted her titled suitor. 

Then, for the first time, Theodora 
showed insubordination to her mother 


lOO 


F ALLIN A 


by positively refusing to listen to any- 
thing further upon the subject; after 
which Mrs. Dowling, concealing her 
annoyance, concluded to adopt other 
tactics. That afternoon they were due 
at an Art Exhibit, at one of the 
smaller galleries, and Theodora, while 
talking with Marjory Errol, overheard 
her mother refuse an invitation for her 
from Hugh Dacres. She knew then 
that for her refusal of Atherton she 
was to be subjected to various childish 
punishments. In a moment, however, 
all this was forgotten as Worthington 
Winthrop came forth from a group he 
had been talking with, and, first greet- 
ing Mrs. Dowling, hastened to where 
Marjory and Theo were standing. 
They formed a striking picture as 
they stood together ; the Honorable 
Marjory representing the best type of 
Englishwoman, with the radiant com- 
plexion possessed by the majority of 
those who dwell in the British isles ; 
and with Theo and Winthrop, forming 

lOI 


F A L L I N A 


a trio wFicli caused many to turn 
from Art to Nature, that afternoon. 

After a little time Theo went in 
search of a certain picture she wanted 
very much to see, leaving the others, 
who had already seen it, to entertain 
some acquaintances among a new 
group of arrivals. She was engrossed 
so thoroughly in the study of the 
picture, the work of a young artist, 
recently sprung into notice in the Art 
world, that she was oblivious entirely 
of her surroundings. To a man stand- 
ing near by it was difficult to decide 
which was the more interesting : the 
artless, lovely young face, gazing ab- 
sorbedly at the picture, or the picture 
itself, which depicted a pathetic female 
figure, standing upon a lonely shore 
gazing after a boat almost lost in the 
distance, and entitled “Abandoned.” 

“Of what are you thinking, my 
child ?” 

Theodora started at the voice, then 
with a smile that completely irradiated 


102 


F ALLIN A 


Ler countenance and which, constituted 
one of her chief charms, she extended 
her hand to Mr. Belfield, who had 
accosted her. 

“ Only thinking, Mr. Belfield, why 
there could be anything so cruelly 
sad as this picture suggests, in a 
world that is so radiantly beautiful 
as this in the glad sunshine this 
morning.’’ 

“ Cobwebs of that kind must not 
begin to form in so young a head. 
There is time for that later on in life. 
Come, let us look at something more 
cheerful, and tell me why I see you 
looking not so fresh and well as when 
I met you at the races.” 

“ Oh ! I am perfectly well — ” 

‘‘That is what I want to hear. 
Perhaps the late hours you are un- 
accustomed to, cause the pallor.” 

It did not occur to this unconven- 
tional young woman that this was 
showing unusual interest in a stranger. 
On the contrary, so great was the 


103 


F ALIvIN A 


t:onfi(ience inspired by ber first meet- 
ing with biin, that Belfield was soon 
in possession of the facts in connec- 
tion with Atherton’s attentions and ber 
mother’s advocacy of them. 

“ I thought so,” he murmured, as 
Theo left him to join her friends then 
advancing toward them. 

“ With whom were you talking, 
Theo?” asked her mother. 

“No less a personage than the 
learned Mr. Belfield, whom I met at 
the Ascot races.” 

“ Whom will the child be hobnobbing 
with next?” came from Mrs. Dowling, 
turning laughingly to Worthington 
Winthrop standing near. 

It did not take a woman of the 
world like Mrs. Dowling very long to 
learn all that Winthrop knew and felt 
concerning Beryl Granby and her tri- 
umphs on the Continent. 

At Vienna, the most exclusive Court 
^ in the world, she had made her debut 
through the influence of Prince Al- 


104 


FALLIN A 


brecHt, and bad won the notice of 
Emperor Franz Josef, wbo honored 
her with a few minutes’ conversation 
at the Court Ball which she attended. 
Winthrop volunteered the further in- 
formation that Van Boeck Effingham 
was in Vienna at the period of Miss^ 
Granby’s social success, but went away 
quite unexpectedly just before he left. 
“ Beryl seemed so happy in her sur- 
roundings, an atmosphere of high-bred 
adulation, that it was a pleasure to 
witness her naive enjoyment of her 
triumphs,” the young man added. 

Mrs. Dowling read human nature- 
too closely not to see that Winthrop 
felt not the slightest interest in Miss 
Granby except that of a friend, and 
wisely kept her own counsel. 

The next day the fashionable w’orld 
of London was chagrined to find that 
the Dowlings were going away. Mrs. 
Dowling suddenly feeling remorse that 
Miss Granby should be unchaperoned 
so long, had concluded to join her 


105 


FALLIN A 


husband on his yacht and make for 
the coast of France, taking a through 
train from Paris to Vienna. Theo was 
disgusted at this change of plans and 
freely communicated her feeling upon 
the subject to Winthrop, who was 
making a short stay in London, before 
sailing for America. She was thor- 
oughly enjoying the attention she was 
receiving in London, and wished to 
remain in this pleasant atmosphere. 
Winthrop tried to cheer her and said 
the next few days should be memor- 
able, if in his power to make them 
so, as the most pleasant she ever 
spent. 

True to his word, Winthrop was on 
hand every day of the remaining time, 
forestalling Atherton on every occa- 
sion. The latter seemed to be indulg- 
ing in a fit of the sulks, like a little 
child who has been thwarted in what 
it wished most to obtain. 

Theo had even a greater triumph 
in Vienna, if possible, than in Lon- 

106 


FALLIN A 


don. Slie seemed to hold the friends 
she made, for it was not long till a 
number of Englishmen had followed 
the Dowlings to Vienna, Atherton 
among the number. 

Mrs. Dowling was annoyed to find 
that young Winthrop, instead of re- 
turning to America, as he intended, 
was among the party who had come 
over from England. She was not long 
in finding out why he had come, as 
he openly showed his admiration for 
her daughter, and, in spite of her 
endeavor to check his overtures, Win- 
throp continued to show Theo marked 
attention. Concluding to put an end 
to this before it went too far, Mrs. 
Dowling, finding Theo seated reading 
upon a little balcony fronting the 
sitting-room they had in common at 
the hotel, began the attack. 

How are Chetwynd Atherton and 
yourself coming on ? I do not see 
you so much together as when in 
England.’* 


107 


FALLIN A 


Oil I I suppose Sir Chetwynd is 
seeing the Vienna sights — I think I 
met him in a gallery yesterday.” 

“ When you were sight-seeing with- 
out a chaperon ! Really Theo you will 
scandalize these Viennese who are un- 
accustomed to see a young girl go 
about alone. You must tell me when 
you want to go to such places.” 

“ I was very well taken care of ; 
Worthington Winthrop was with me, 
and I heard papa say he was the most 
trustworthy as well as the finest young 
man he had met in a great while.” 

‘‘Your father spoke of him in con- 
nection with business. He is not a 
suitable match for my daughter — and 
— I wished to speak to you about 
being seen with him so much. I do 
not like it and wish you to discourage 
any further attention on his part.” 

“But, mamma, I enjoy being with 
him so much better than with some 
of those effeminate-looking titled for- 
eigners I have met.” 

io8 


FALLIN A 


“ Well, I see it was quite time I 
spoke to you upon the subject. I 
bave just bad word from Cbetwynd 
Atberton tbat be will dine witb us to- 
night, and is again going to broacb tbe 
subject of matrimony to you. Now, 
Tbeo, I shall expect you to accept him 
to-night without further dalliance.” 

But — I do not care for him suffi- 
ciently to marry him.” 

“ Nonsense ! What do you know 
about love ? — you will care for him 
after — ” 

She broke off abruptly in the re- 
mark she was about to make and 
stared so fixedly at some object at the 
other side and beyond Theo, that the 
latter turned hastily to see what had 
caused her mother’s silence and pe- 
culiar manner. 

The balcony on which they were 
seated ran along in front of two other 
rooms of the hotel, and from one of 
these had stepped a man who raised 
his hand as if to check the flow of 

109 


FALLIN A 


Mrs. Dowling’s words. As they botH 
gazed at bim in consternation Theo 
recognized bim and was about to ex- 
claim, wben be requested ber to wait 
until be bad finished. 

“ I was seated in my bedroom near 
by, where I could not help overbearing 
your conversation. Madam, I have in 
no way interfered with your manner 
of raising my daughter, but I have 
some rights which I intend to enforce 
if I learn again of any attempt on 
your part to coerce or force ber into 
marrying a man like Cbetwynd Ath- 
erton, of whose peculiar morals you 
cannot help having heard.” With that 
he turned upon his heel and was gone. 

Theo turned hastily to her mother 
and finding her in a half-fainting con- 
dition, ran for the maid to help her 
into the room. When Mrs. Dowling 
had revived sufficiently Theodora, hav- 
ing dismissed the maid, inquired : 

“Mother dear, who was he? What 
did he mean ?” 


no 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Mrs. Barton fell a victim to the 
charm of the child, Fallina, as readily 
as her daughter and brother before 
her. She found them all at the health 
resort, in good spirits over Fallina^ s 
improved condition. The new doctor, 
Remercier, advised that she be taken 
to her native village, as he thought 
the air there would agree better with 
her than at the Knr Bad. 

As the accommodations were so poor 
at Vingtaigne, and Catharine felt sh-e 
could not again ask the Tadescas to 
shelter her, she was very glad when 
her uncle discovered and obtained for 
her a commodious chateau near Ving- 
taigne, where they took up their abode, 
Fallina going with them contentedly. 

After the excitement incident to 
their installation at Chateau Fontaine 
had subsided, Mrs. Barton noticed 


III 


FALLIN A 


Catharine’s unwonted quiet and occa- 
sional sadness, and was determined to 
enquire into it and into the cause of 
Guy remaining away from her so 
long. 

Mrs. Barton and Catharine were re- 
turning from the village where they 
had driven to see Fantine Godet, whom 
they employed to do sewing for them 
upon occasion. They had concluded, 
after talking over the affair, to bestow 
a sufElcient sum of money upon Fan- 
tine to enable her to carry out the 
original plan of being united to her 
lover, Antonio. Thus they would be 
enabled to go to housekeeping at the 
time they had intended before the 
accident occurred. 

Outside the village Catharine drew 
out the letters received at the post- 
ofhce. Selecting one from the num- 
ber she opened and glanced over it, 
not without uttering an exclamation 
as she did so, which startled Mrs. 
Barton into asking : 


II2 


FALLIN A 


“Any unwelcome news, CatHarine ? 
Is it from Guy?’’ 

“No, mother, this is one of those 
wretched anonymous letters I have 
heard of but never yet received until 
the present time.” 

“ Why, dear child, you have no 
enemies ! There must be some mis- 
take.” 

“See, it is addressed plainly enough 
to me and from all I can glean is 
written by some malicious person who 
evidently wishes to make mischief 
between Guy and me. Here it is ; 
listen !” 

“ Mrs. Tisdale : 

Your husband is well 
aware of your being accompanied to 
the Kur Bad by a man from whom 
you received assiduous attention, while 
you feigned attendance on a sick 
child. An Eye Witness.” 

Mrs. Barton was trembling with ex- 
citement. Suppose such a tale should 
reach the ears of Tisdale, though un- 


viii 


113 


FALLIN A 


true, and innocent as Catharine was, 
how would it appear to him ? 

“Is there no post-mark, dear?”- 

“Yes, it has the Paris post-mark, 
but that could give no clew, and, even 
if it did, in what way would it aid 
me ? I have unwittingly made an 
enemy, how or when I do not know, 
and, Guy’s leaving me here alone has 
opened up the opportunity to thus 
assail me.” 

This gave Mrs. Barton the chance 
she wanted. 

“I wonder Guy should leave you so 
long alone here, at the mercy of any 
one maliciously inclined ; although, of 
course, he knows your uncle and I 
are with you.” 

Catharine hesitated; Should she 
pour out to this warm, sympathetic 
heart her fears of the past few weeks 
or lock them again in her own breast ? 

“Tell me, Cathie, what made Guy 
change his mind so suddenly about 
his stay over here ? There was some- 

114 


FALLIN A 


tiling I could not understand about 
business calling him home. Then, too, 
he has had ample time to adjust that 
and return.” 

One glance at the gentle, disturbed 
countenance of her mother decided 
Catharine to confide in her and she 
soon told of the little differences which 
led to the coldness and departure of 
Guy to America. 

“ My poor child ! you should have 
told me. I could have helped you.” 

The remainder of the way home was 
passed in silence. Each was occupied 
by her own thoughts. As they drew 
near Fontaine they could see Mr. 
Darrell and Pere Ambroise, having tea 
on the lawn ; near them Folly play- 
ing with a little Griffon dog obtained 
by Mr. Darrell while in Paris the 
week before. 


115 


CHAPTER XVIL 


Catharine passed a sleepless night 
after receiving the lines from the 
anonymoiis writer the day before. 
Added to this annoyance, was the fact 
that no letters had come from Guy 
in reply to the one she had written 
asking if he would come to her. 

The late summer and early autumn 
were delightful at Fontaine. The little 
family there, frequently joined by the 
Cure^ spent much of their time under 
the beautiful old trees which sur- 
rounded the chateau. The Cure pos- 
sessed a fund of historical knowledge, 
especially about that particular region, 
which seemed inexhaustible, and, which 
the inmates of the chateau never tired 
of drawing upon. With actual fact 
the Cure would weave into his story 
an anecdote appropriate to it and thus 
his interesting style as a raconteur 
caused his visits to Fontaine to be 
looked forward to with pleasant antici- 

ii6 


FALIvIN A 


pation by one and all. EvSpecially 
were they enjoyed and appreciated by 
Jobn Darrell, who, devoted as he was 
to his sister and niece, was beginning 
to tire a little of the monotony of the 
life they led at Fontaine. On the 
other hand, Pere Ambroise rarely had 
the opportunity of the companionship 
of one so well versed in the ways of 
the world as John Darrell, who was a 
cultured, travelled gentleman. Hence 
many long and interesting talks were 
held by these two men, so different 
to outward seeming, yet, withal, so 
companionable, though so strangely 
brought together. 

The evening that Catharine and 
Mrs. Barton had found them having 
tea together, Pere Ambroise had come 
to ask them to drive over to the village 
the day following, to witness the mar- 
riage, which, through Mrs. Barton’s 
generosity, had been made possible 
between Fantine Godet and Antoine 
Gauthier. In their gratitude for her 

117 


FALLIN A 


kindness tkey wished Mrs. Barton and 
her family to witness not only the re- 
ligious ceremony but the dance on the 
Place Verte, the village green, which 
would take place afterward. 

It was a scene not soon to be for- 
gotten, as they entered the pictur- 
esque old church the day of the wed- 
ding. The pews were well-filled with 
rows of ' ruddy-faced, honest-looking 
peasants, eagerly awaiting the chief 
actors in the scene. They had not 
long to wait. 

Fantine, in her white muslin gown, 
a wreath of white roses holding her 
simple veil in place, was radiant with 
happiness. Antoine, with his vivid, 
dark coloring, was a good foil for his 
fair bride. 

At the conclusion of the ceremony 
Pere Ambroise spoke a few words to 
the young couple, who respectfully, 
with downcast faces, listened to his 
admonitions. He said, among other 
things, that he wished them to re- 

ii8 


F ALLIN A 


member, that it w as not given to 
human beings throughout life, to be 
so entirely content and happy as they 
were at that time. It was not so to 
be. There would come dark days 
when their love would be tried to the 
utmost. Then they must remember 
their vow : That they had taken each 
other for ^Svorse” as well as for 
“better.’’ 

A pang went through Catharine, at 
these words, and she involuntarily 
glanced toward her mother, whom she 
found intently watching her. 

From the church they went to the 
square in the centre of the village, 
where they saw the newly married 
couple the centre of a group of peas- 
ants. At this quaint little town the 
villagers had not abandoned the peas- 
ant costume, and they made a pretty 
picture as they surrounded the bridal 
couple. The latter, upon seeing Mrs. 
Tisdale and her mother and uncle, 
rushed to the side of the carriage to* 
119 


F ALLIN A 


kiss tkeir . hands, and again thank 
them for enabling them to obtain a 
little home. They were not satisfied 
until each had taken a glass of native 
wine to drink their health. As they 
drove back to the chateau they com- 
mented, each in his or her way, on 
the joyous scene they had just wit- 
nessed ; but all concluded that it was 
a refreshing sight to see people so 
exceedingly happy, possessing so little 
of the world’s goods. 

Fallina seemed to be in a strange 
state of excitement when they reached 
home. This worried Catharine so 
much that she insisted upon attending 
the child herself while she was being 
prepared for bed. The nurse had gone 
for a few moments from the room to 
obtain something necessary for the 
night. Taking advantage of her ab- 
sence, Fallina turned to Mrs. Tisdale, 
saying : 

Chere Madame ; he is here, he is 
here!” 


120 


FALLIN A 


Nothing more could Catharine ex* 
tract from the excited child. 

More alarmed than ever Catharine 
sought her mother, saying that Fallina 
seemed delirious, and she thought she 
had better remain with her throughout 
the night, to assist the nurse, if 
necessary. Mrs. Barton went with 
Catharine to the child’s bedside. She 
seemed in normal condition to her, 
and she endeavored to make Catharine 
think so and to dissuade her from 
passing a long, weary, possibly sleep- 
less night at the bedside of Fallina. 

Mother, she certainly was delirious 
for the moment. She distinctly said : 
‘ he is come, he is come,’ as if she 
was seeing some imaginary person 
here in the room.” 

“ Perhaps she is homesick, as we 
have not taken her home for several 
days. Or, it may be that she was 
thinking of the good Cure and wanted 
to see him. If she rouses and repeats 
the same thing, suggest to her that 


I2I 


FALLIN A 


you will take her to see her parents 
and the Cure to-morrow.” 

Catharine told the nurse that she 
was not sleepy, and advised the latter 
to lie down and get what sleep she 
could. Taking up her lonely vigil by 
the bedside, she rapidly went over the 
events of the past two months and 
was compelled to confess to herself 
that she was in a very unenviable 
position. No word had come from her 
husband in reply to her letter asking 
him to come to her. She had truly 
placed herself in a humiliating atti- 
tude toward him, by taking Pere Am- 
broise’s advice, although she felt the 
advice had been good. 

Pride arose and overwhelmed her as 
she thought of the humiliation she 
was suffering. She shuddered at the 
thought of the future. There was no 
one to whom she could appeal. In 
spite of Mrs. Barton’s gentle forbear- 
ance, Catharine felt instinctively that 
both her mother and uncle would join 


122 


FALLIN A 


forces against lier husband in urging 
her to leave him. Mrs. Barton, with 
her aversion to divorce, would scarcely 
advocate anything further than a sepa- 
ration ; her uncle would go to the ex- 
treme and urge divorce by all means. 
There would be nothing new that Pere 
Ambroise could suggest. What then 
could be done at present, but to pos- 
sess herself of the patience she knew 
she was far from feeling, and to 
combat, if possible, the onslaught of 
her enemy, the writer of the anony- 
mous letter? 

Sighing wearily she walked to the 
window, and leaned out to look at the 
night. First, she glanced toward the 
heavens, from which shone down the 
lustre of a full moon ; then her eyes 
wandered to the shrubbery on the 
lawn, and, to her amazement, there 
appeared the figure of a man, stand- 
ing out clearly defined, by the rays 
of the moon. Apparently, he was look- 
ing directly toward her apartments, 


123 


FALLIN A 


which, were on the same floor as Fal- 
lina’s, only separated from the latter 
by a sitting-room. 

Hastily moving away and drawing 
the curtains over the window, she rang 
the bell for assistance. Sometime after, 
a sleepy-looking footman appeared, and 
when questioned, said he had been 
asleep for an hour, but in answering 
the bell, was compelled to cross the 
court-yard — in fact the very spot at 
which she thought she saw the in- 
truder — and had seen no one, but to 
convince Madame would go back and 
look more thoroughly. 

He aroused the butler and together 
they searched the grounds. Their 
quest was fruitless, and on seeking 
their respective beds they commented 
on the vagaries and nervous fancies 
of those in high life, as if, indeed, 
there could be anything alarming if 
actually some solitary soul had chosen 
to walk on the lawn through the 
court-yard on a moonlight night ! 


124 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


As soon as Mrs. Dowling regained 
consciousness slie motioned Theo to 
lier side. Seeing tHat they were alone, 
she said : 

“Theodora, that man was your 
father ! ” 

“ My father ! What can you mean, 
mother ? Papa Dowling is my father.” 

“ It is a long story, dear, and I can- 
not enter into it now. Suffice it to say 
that your father, Theodore Trainor, left 
me when you were a child of five years 
of age — I — I then married Mr. Dow- 
ling.” 

“ But how could you, married to one 
man, marry another ? ” 

“ Of course I could not without be- 
ing — being divorced.” 

“O mother — you a divorced woman!!” 

Theodora gazed in horror at her 
mother. 


125 


FALLIN A 


Never in all the years that had fol- 
lowed Mrs. Dowling’s separation from 
her first husband had she felt her situ- 
ation or been punished as now. To ex- 
perience condemnation of her course in 
the eyes of a well-loved child was in- 
deed suffering of the keenest kind. She 
recoiled at the thought that she could 
never re-establish herself in the respect 
and affection Theo had entertained for 
her. 

She turned around on the couch, 
averted a mute, suffering face from her 
daughter, and, as the latter left the 
room, exclaimed passionately : 

“ Theo, Theo, do not desert me ! ” 

Unfortunately Theodora, filled so 
completely with discomfort at this new 
turn of events, did not hear her moth- 
er’s cry and hastened from the room. 
She wanted to be alone, to think it 
out by herself. If the faintest sound 
had reached her from her mother, and 
she had felt that it was an appeal to 
her she would have rushed to her side 


126 


F ALLIN A 


and everytliing migHt have been dif- 
ferent in the future. As it was, filled 
with a loathing she could not, at times, 
overcome, she fled from the room. It 
was to the pure, high-minded young 
girl as it was to her aunt, Mrs. Bar- 
ton, an unpardonable sin, this breaking 
of the marriage tie. But, the mother, 
that dear one, to whom she was wont 
to look up. Ah, there was the sting 
of it ! 

Wearily leaning her throbbing head 
on her arms Theo sat a long time in 
her bedroom, lost in thought. Finally 
she rose, threw out her arms as if dis- 
burdening herself of something disa- 
_greeable, then composing herself with 
an effort she rang the bell for her maid 
and was soon in the mysteries of a toi- 
lette which was to grace a reception 
given in honor of the betrothal of her 
mother’s cousin. Beryl Granby, and 
Count Ernst von Straben. 

Yes, Beryl had at last achieved her 
desire. She was betrothed to a mem- 


127 


FALLIN A 


ber of one of tbe oldest noble families 
in Austria. That she was content and 
satisfied in her choice and gratified to 
be allied with this family there could 
be little doubt, as she stood, a vision 
of radiant, beautiful young womanhood, 
in her cloth-of-gold gown receiving the 
felicitations of her guests. 

Yet to one who looked closely at the 
fair face, an expression of icy calm had 
superseded the sweet, amiable expres- 
sion which was wont to grace her coun- 
tenance. Undoubtedly in time this 
would so alter and change the face that 
the beauty now so much admired would 
be totally effaced. 

Theodora was surprised to find her 
mother in brilliant mood, at the recep- 
tion, when but a few hours before she 
seemed utterly prostrated. Mrs. Dowl- 
ing was too much a woman of the 
world to betray her real self or lay bare 
her suffering to unfavorable comment. 
She had lived too long in the ga^^ world 
of fashion for any display of emotion. 


128 


F ALLIN A 


The shock of an encounter with a hus- 
band long since thought dead, had 
almost proven too much for her ; but 
she had regained her self-poise, and was 
busily engaged casting about for an 
excuse to leave Vienna, taking her 
daughter with her. The daughter, she 
now felt, would be a bone of contention 
between herself and the man she had 
abandoned. 

The opportunity came sooner than 
she expected and in an unlooked-for 
direction. While cruising around the 
Adriatic awaiting his wife’s pleasure in 
leaving Vienna, Edgerton Dowling had 
slipped and fallen to the deck of the 
yacht in attempting some unaccustomed 
nautical feat. At first it was thought 
there was concussion of the brain and 
Mrs. Dowling was sent for immediately. 
The latter had only time to wire her 
sister, Mrs. Barton, to come at once to 
be with Theodora, while she hurried to 
the bedside of her injured husband. 
Meanwhile and until Mrs. Barton ar- 


ix 


129 


F ALLIN A 


rived in Vienna, Theodora had the com- 
panionship of the prospective Countess 
von Straben, who, although but four 
years Theo’s senior, gave herself airs 
on account of this difference in their 
ages and patronized her young cousin 
accordingly. 

The afternoon after Mrs. Dowling’s 
departure Beryl Granby and Theodora 
were driving along the Prater. They 
had passed a number of equipages, 
whose occupants nodded recognition as 
they drove by. Suddenly they were hor- 
rified to see a run-a-way pair of horses 
coming rapidly toward them. Their 
coachman by a rapid movement turned 
his horses aside just in time to avoid a 
collision between the two teams. About 
fifty feet beyond them the carriage 
drawn by the runaway horses was over- 
turned and the occupants, two men, 
were thrown to the ground. 

Miss Granby gave the order to re- 
turn to the spot where the accident 
occurred. They saw that the horses 


130 


FALLIN A 


the broken, overturned car- 
riage had been stopped before they 
had gone any distance, and the coach- 
man more frightened than hurt, came 
limping to where the others were. By 
the time the young women reached 
the scene, the younger man of the two, 
who had been thrown from the car- 
riage, was on his feet and trying to 
arouse his companion, who seemed to 
be unconscious. Their surprise was 
great on finding that the men were 
Mr. Belfield and Worthington Win- 
throp. Mr. Belfield still remaining un- 
conscious, Beryl insisted upon Win- 
throp having him placed in her car- 
riage and together they drove to the 
nearest hospital. 

In spite of Beryhs entreaties to 
Theodora to go home with her, the 
latter stubbornly refused, giving no 
explanation of her conduct, but saying 
she was going to remain and hear the 
surgeon^s verdict. Seeing that she was 
determined and feeling that it would 
131 


F ALLIN A 


not do to leave her alone, Beryl pre- 
pared to remain also. 

Presently young Winthrop came to 
them in the reception room where they 
were waiting and turning to Theodora, 
said : 

“ Miss Dowling, the poor fellow is 
somewhat better, but seems to be suf- 
fering from some mental delusion occa- 
sioned by the shock of the fall, for 
he keeps repeating ‘ Theo ’ — ^ Theo’ — 
would you mind coming for a few 
moments with me to his side ? It 
may soothe him to find a woman there. 
Of course, it is just a coincidence, his 
calling for some one of the same name 
as yours.’’ 

Theodora made no reply to this 
other than to follow him from the 
room. 

It was late that evening when Theo- 
dora left the hospital to drive to her 
hotel. Mrs. Barton, who had arrived 
during her absence, and Beryl Granby 
were awaiting her. Miss Granby, after 


132 


FALLIN A 


seeing tliat Theo had returned safely, 
said “good night,” and left the two 
together. 

“Theo, dear, you must not allow 
that good heart of yours to get you 
into trouble. What would your mother 
think of you sitting so long with a 
strange man in a hospital ?” 

Theo did not reply to her aunt at 
once. Finally she said : 

“Auntie, dear, I do not think mother 
would object to me remaining with 
and caring for my own father P 

“Your own father! My dear child, 
he is dead these many years. I sup- 
pose your mother has told you all the 
sad story.” 

“Alas 1 yes, everything — but upon 
one point you are all mistaken. My 
father, Theodore Trainor, is not dead 
as you have supposed ; he is alive, 
under an assumed name, and under 
which he has gained world-wide repute 
as a scientist. He is the well-known 
Gerald Belfield 1” 


133 


FALLIN A 


‘‘ What, Theodore not dead ! Theo- 
dore and Gerald Belfield one and the 
same person ? impossible 

“Unlikely as it may seem to you, 
it is nevertheless true.” 

Then Theodora proceeded to tell her 
aunt of the occurrence the day before 
her mother was called away, and Mrs. 
Barton was obliged to believe the story 
which at first she thought was im- 
probable. 

The next day Mrs. Barton accom- 
panied Theo to the hospital. 

At the end of a week Mr. Belfield, 
as he insisted upon retaining the name, 
was well enough to leave the hospital, 
and, in a very short time, regained 
his wonted health. His devoted com- 
panion during his convalescence was 
Worthington Winthrop. 

Word came from the Dowlings, that 
Mr. Dowling was slowly gaining, but 
it was several days before there was 
hope of even saving his life. Mrs. 
Dowling, feeling that Theodora, cha- 


134 


FALLIN A 


peroned by Mrs. Barton, was in ex- 
cellent bands, also felt perfectly secure 
about ber and looked forward to a 
speedy and successful termination of 
Atherton’s wooing. Tbe following let- 
ter was a rude awakening from ber 
dreams : 

“ Dear Mother : 

More than I can tell you, 
it hurts me to disappoint you in any 
way, and especially in your plans for 
my future. Yesterday evening, at tbe 
American Embassy, in tbe presence of 
Aunt Barton, Uncle Darrell and my 
father, I was married to Worthington 
Wintbrop. We knew you would never 
consent to this marriage, hence we con- 
cluded to be married quietly ; hoping 
that the thought of my happiness 
would mitigate your disappointment. 

Believe me, mother, in spite of my 
seeming disobedience, that I love you 
dearly, and shall always remain 
Your devoted daughter, 

Theodora Trainor Winthrop.”^ 


135 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Catharine was alone. Mrs. Barton, 
accompanied by her brother, John 
Darrell, had hastened to Vienna, a 
few days before, at the summons of 
Mrs. Dowling. 

Catharine had thoroughly enjoyed 
the day that was drawing to a close. 
The greater part of it she had spent 
in the open air with the child. Folly. 
The latter seemed to be in the hap- 
piest sort of mood, and her health so 
much improved, that Catharine formed 
the plan of returning to America 
taking Folly with her, if she could 
obtain the parents’ permission. 

In thus seeking her husband and 
a reconciliation with him, she knew 
she would be compelled to use the 
utmost self-control and patience, to 
bring about an humble state of mind, 
and to subdue her pride sufficiently 
136 


F ALLIN A 


to accomplish, the desired result. But 
she was firm in her resolution and felt 
that come what might, she would do 
everything on her part to heal the 
breach, now seemingly widened ir- 
reparably. 

From the contemplation of her un- 
comfortable situation in regard to 
her relations with her husband, her 
thoughts flew to the child she had 
in charge, and a singular feeling of 
happiness came over her in thinking 
of her. Catharine was one of those 
women who had the maternal instinct 
strongly developed. When she thought 
of Folly’s patience in suffering, her 
unselfishness with others, her warm, 
loving heart, she could not bring her- 
self to part with her. What if the 
Tadescas would not consent to her 
taking the child to America ? She felt 
that it would bitterly disappoint her, 
since she had grown so attached to 
her, but, she also felt that if com- 
pelled to relinquish her now, she 


137 


FALLIN A 


would be returned in good bealtb and 
improved also in various ways, tbrougb 
daily contact witb cultured people and 
by tbe travel sbe bad been enabled 
to obtain for ber. 

It was while tbus occupied that 
Mrs. Tisdale was interrupted by Pere 
Ambroise, wbo, bearing of ber motbePs 
departure, and fearing sbe might be 
lonely, came out to pay a friendly 
call, also to enquire incidentally after 
bis pet, Fallina. 

“Sbe is now asleep, Father, fatigued 
witb a day’s play in tbe open air. 
I am very much encouraged by ber 
present condition ; so much so, that I 
think of going to America next week 
and taking ber along if I can gain ber 
parents’ consent.’-^ 

“ It would be well for tbe child. 
May I ask what has caused this sud- 
den decision ?” 

A deep flush suddenly swept over 
tbe face of Mrs. Tisdale. Looking up 
sbe said : 

138 


F ALLIN A 


“ I have heard nothing from my 
husband now for three weeks, there- 
fore came to the conclusion it would 
be well for me to go to him and 
satisfy myself as to the cause of his 
silence.” 

“ It is no less than I expected of 
you, but I shall miss you sadly, my 
child. Alas ! it seems to me life is 
nothing but a series of meetings and 
partings.” 

“ But we shall meet again, in the 
near future, under happier conditions 
I hope.” 

Changing the subject, Catharine told 
of the mysterious midnight visitor of a 
few nights previous, and that nothing 
had been seen of him since. Then 
the good man took his departure for 
Vingtaigne, promising to do all in his 
power to persuade the Tadescas to re- 
linquish their claim to Fallina, giving 
her over entirely to the care of Mrs. 
Tisdale. 

Catharine concluded to walk for a 


139 


FALLIN A 


few minutes on tlie long balcony, 
wbicb surrounded two sides of the 
chateau, before retiring for the night. 
As she reached the farthest corner on 
the unoccupied side of the chateau, 
the figure of a man approached out 
of the shadow of the trees near by. 
Stealthily creeping toward her, he was 
unnoticed by Catharine until within 
three feet of where she stood. Pet- 
rified with fright she stood, as if 
rooted to the spot, unable to speak. 
Then something familiar about the 
figure caused her to observe it more 
closely, and recognizing an old ac- 
quaintance, she exclaimed ! 

“George Kingsley, how you fright- 
ened me ! How did you happen to 
be here and at this hour 

“Cathie, Cathie, it was to see you, 
dear, that I have been prowling around 
this house. I have heard that you 
have been deserted by that scoundrel, 
Guy Tisdale, and once more I throw 
myself at your feet and beg you to 


140 


FALLIN A 


take me I I know I have acted des- 
perately, recklessly for several years 
past — but I will change all that if you 
will but smile upon me.” 

“ Listen to me, George ; you must 
calm yourself and listen.” Catharine’s 
voice usually so clear and vibrant, 
trembled with mingled emotion, fright 
and indignation. “ I repeat to you 
again, my husband has not deserted 
me ; I am expecting him any day 
to join me. Pull yourself together, 
George. I have faith in you yet, and 
feel confident the manly side will win.” 

‘‘You fill me with despair, Cathie, 
but that fellow will not claim you as 
you say. He is in possession of cer- 
tain facts which will separate you 
surely ; and if that is not sufficient, 
here is a trusty friend who will surely 
divorce you.” 

With these words and with a ma- 
niacal gleam in his eyes, he leveled 
a pistol at her heart, but not quickly 
enough, for, before he had time to 
141 


FALLIN A 


pull the trigger, Cathie was dashed 
aside, where she fell swooning into 
the arms that had saved her. Foiled 
in his desperate attempt, Kingsley 
turned his weapon on himself, dying 
instantly. 

Hi Hi Hi H: Hi 

When Catharine came to herself, 
she was lying on her bed in her own 
room, with her maid in attendance, 
and it took her some time to recall 
the incidents preceding her swoon. 

“How did I get here, Natalie?” 

“Madame was not well and fainted 
while walking on the balcony. Jerome, 
the butler, summoned me and together 
we brought you here*’^ 

“Was I alone when you found me?” 

“As I said, Madame, Jerome found 
you in a swoon — there could have 
been no one there or he would have 
told me.” 

Catharine turned wearily on her 
pillow. When Natalie saw that her 
mistress was asleep, she descended to 


142 


FALLIN A 


the lower part of the chateau, where 
there was more or less confusion. 
Before Mrs. Tisdale closed her eyes 
in sleep, in asking for something to 
moisten her lips, Natalie deftly placed 
a sleeping potion in the glass of light 
wine which she administered. 

Natalie found, among those assem- 
bled in the court-yard, beside Pere 
Ambroise and the burgomeister of the 
village, a tall, dark man who seemed 
to be dictating to the rest and assum- 
ing the lead in the direction of the 
disposal of the suicide’s body and 
effects. In a half-hour everything was 
silent around the chateau. 

There was no light anywhere ex- 
cept that of the moon shining softly 
upon the picturesque old house and 
grounds, which had so recently wit- 
nessed one of life’s tragedies 

The next few days were so full of 
concern for Catharine that she gave 
little thought to the desperate en- 
counter with George Kingsle}^ Fal- 


143 


FALLIN A 


lina liad again been stricken and in 
spite of the best medical aid did not 
seem to rally as formerly. Her parents 
bad been several times to see her and 
the old priest, took up his residence 
at the chateau temporarily, while Mrs. 
Barton and John Darrell hastened to 
the sick bed of the child whose lovely 
nature had so completely won their 
hearts. 

The third day after the attack, 
while Catharine had gone to her room 
for a brief respite and rest, she was 
hastily summoned to the sick room 
where she found the priest, nurse and 
physician close around the bed. In 
her alarm she did not notice a fourth 
figure, that of a man kneeling at the 
opposite side of the bed, until he 
looked up, when she recognized in 
the anxious face, her husband, Guy 
Tisdale. One glance at the face of 
the child showed her that the dear 
little one’s life was fast ebbing away. 
With a moan she sank to her knees. 


144 


FALLIN A 


“ O I Folly, Folly, do not leave 
me — ’’ broke from the lips of Mrs. 
Tisdale. 

A tender smile lighted up the 
wan, little face as Folly, lifting Guy^s 
band wbicb bad been ligbtly clasped 
in ber own, laid it ligbtly, lovingly 
upon that of Catharine’s. All present 
leaned to bear the words she was 
trying to utter. They beard faintly : 

He is here, dear Madame, as I 
said ; part — no — more.” 

And with this the little one fell 
into that sleep that knows no waking. 

Before leaving Vingtaigne for their 
borne in America, Pere Ambroise told 
Catharine of ber husband’s appearance 
several weeks before ; of bis remain- 
ing in the village with him, and of 
bis disbelief in ber alleged unfaith- 
fulness as described to him by ber 
unknown enemy. The good man told 
ber also of bis meeting Folly when 
out alone with the nurse, and, of the 


145 


FALLIN A 


<:hild’s affection for and devotion to her 
husband. The rest Catharine learned 
from Guy himself on ship-board on 
their homeward voyage ; of his coming 
at night to look upon the dwelling- 
place that contained his heart’s dearest 
treasure, and of his happening to be 
at hand to save her from annihilation 
at the hands of the misguided and 
unfortunate George Kingsley 

It was a reunited and happy pair 
that the moon shone down upon, as 
they walked the deck of the ocean 
liner ; the only sadness to mar their 
happiness, the untimely taking-off of 
the little girl “ Folly,” who had so 
fondly loved them both. 


146 








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